


Wolf Moon

by Lyzzybelle



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Andrew is adorkable, Buffy tries to hide her attraction to Oz, Dream Sharing, Faith is a good friend, Flashbacks to Highschool, Oz is hiding something, Post Series but no comics, Those damn herbs!, Willow is a sweatheart, lots of flashbacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:04:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1378276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lyzzybelle/pseuds/Lyzzybelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He held her face gently and touched his forehead to hers. </p><p>"Some birthday this turned out to be for you," his tone was laced with regret.</p><p>"My birthday isn't over yet." Her words were said with more confidence than she felt.</p><p>"You still think …?" he hesitated, not wanting to voice his doubts.</p><p>"I believe in you," she said with sincerity.</p><p>"I can't …" he whispered brokenly. His body trembled with the effort and heat poured from him in waves. He shuddered slightly and his eyes burned with anguish when he continued. "I can't hold him back, not anymore."</p><p>Set a few years after the collapse of Sunnydale, Oz and Buffy meet once again. It is only a matter of time before they realize they share more than a mutual attraction - an attraction they tried to deny in high school and exploded a few years later. Now, Buffy has a dream about a Slayer and a Wolf and, unbeknownst to her, Oz has the same dream. Fate brings them together once more and, as Buffy tries to find out more about the Slayers that lived before her, she stumbles across an old prophecy...a prophecy the council has worked hard to keep hidden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

** Slayer vs. Werewolf **

** January 2007 **

 

He held her face gently and touched his forehead to hers. "Some birthday this turned out to be for you," his tone was laced with regret.

"My birthday isn't over yet." Her words were said with more confidence than she felt.

"You still think …?" he hesitated, not wanting to voice his doubts.

"I believe in you," she said with sincerity.

"I can't …" he whispered brokenly. His body trembled with the effort and heat poured from him in waves. He shuddered slightly and his eyes burned with anguish when he continued. "I can't hold him back, not anymore."

"Shhh," she reassured him as she placed her hands on the sides of his face. "It will be okay," she sounded sure of her statement, but it was a lie. Fear stabbed her heart like an icy dagger. She knew she was the one making him do this; if it ended badly it would be her fault.

He closed his eyes. "He's very close." He placed his hands on top of hers and brushed her lips with his. It wasn't dramatic or passionate, it was slow and gentle - a kiss goodbye. The light, almost chaste kiss broke her heart as she knew he didn't think they would make it.

She pulled back gazing at his face, watching his jaw tighten as he gritted his teeth.

"Don't you give up on us!" she whispered fiercely. "Remember what we're fighting for."

His eyes opened, and she knew if there was more light that she would see his pupils dilating and contracting.

The change had begun.

Impulsively, she pulled his face down for another kiss. She put everything into this kiss, all the fear she felt, her anguish, love and desire. She wanted him to feel her, be a part of her. It seemed to spark something inside of him and he kissed her back, pouring his feelings in as well, pulling her closer. His fingers flexed and his nails grew long, but his touch remained ever gentle.

She could feel his teeth lengthen, his entire body shook violently.

He pulled away, dropping his hand as he stepped back. "I love you Buffy," he said, his voice hoarse from strain.

"I love you too Oz."

The only sound in the heavy silence was the cracking and popping of his joints and his labored breathing.

"Go," he choked. "You should go!" Desperation forced the words pass Oz's lips, even though his body was riddled with pain. His voice was changing, rougher, becoming more like a growl.

"This was a **badidea**." The last two words came out in an almost unintelligible growl. He dropped to the pine needle covered ground and moaned as the changes became more severe.

"I won't leave. We can do this. I know we can," Buffy said, she knew there was no room for uncertainty and doubt now; they had crossed the line and either they would triumph or one of them would die.

Her money was on their survival.

She watched helplessly as his body contorted in agony, hating herself for causing this.

Her eyes scanned the clearing. It was dark; the only light came from the glimmer of the full moon peeking from behind a cloudy sky. It being January, this was the first moon of the year. She thought briefly about its name, The Wolf Moon. It seemed cruelly appropriate.

She took a deep breath and listened to the silence of the woods around her - every creature within hearing distance had gone still, silent. She looked at the spot Oz should have been, but he was gone and his transformation was complete. The man was gone and, in his place, was the wolf.

The growl, low and guttural, come from deep in his throat and her heart pounded just a little faster.

He stood in front of her now, standing on all fours. Years before, she had seen him as a wolf and his coat had been fluffy then, due to the fact that his wolf was still maturing. Now, he looked different, his coat was sleek and gleamed in the moonlight. His body was different as well, no longer looked half-human, half-wolf. Now, he was pure wolf.

She wondered if the difference was due to maturity or if it was chemical. _Those damn herbs._ For Oz, they had been both a blessing and a curse.

She turned warily as he stalked her, always keeping her body facing his while he circled her.

As she kept her eyes on his dark form, she suddenly wished her vision was as good as the vampires she killed. She wanted to be able to look into the wolf's eyes and see if there was still some part of the man she loved inside.

He stopped, and although she couldn't tell if he was watching her face or the movement of her body, she hoped it was the former. She wanted to believe that he recognized her, wanted to believe that it had all been worthwhile.

She brushed away her last traces of fear, it had no place here. She had couldn't think that, she had to believe that they would win. Although she was not defenseless, (Oz had been adamant on that) she made no move to draw the silver dagger. It stayed in the sheath strapped on her leg.

"I believe in you Oz," she said clearly.

He launched his powerful body toward her with one last growl and Buffy braced for the impact.


	2. Beaver Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took creative license with dates of moons. They will NOT match the actual full moon dates in RL for the corresponding years. Sorry. Also, very brief mention of Spike – but you won't see much more of him. I am a die-hard Spuffy fan and if I bring in Spike, then there will be no Buffy and Oz…
> 
> I'm not Joss :( I don't own Buffy.
> 
> Kudos to Spike's Real Love for being my beta and to Bell for offering suggestions.

**November 2005 - The Beaver Moon**

**14 Months earlier...**

The transatlantic flight from London seemed to take forever. Buffy could swear she was coming down with a head cold, and to make matters worse, she had mixed up the dates of her flight. The result? No one would be at the airport to pick her up.

The plane landed and she took a taxi to the Academy.

The driver unloaded her bags and asked, one last time, if she needed assistance carrying her luggage up the stairs. She declined and the burly driver shrugged, grumbling under his breath.

As the taxi pulled away, she surveyed her bags. How it was possible to leave America with one lone suitcase and return with three? She blamed shoes. Shoes are too cute to pass up and thus evil and space consuming… but really, really cute.

Buffy looked at the three story building. The first and second floors of the building each housed sixteen units, most of which were occupied by local council members and the Academy instructors. _Her_ apartment was on the top floor.

She sighed, looking again at the three suitcases, two of which held, well mostly cute … evil shoes. She had been in London the last two weeks visiting with her sister Dawn, and…well there were _a lot_ of shoe stores there.

Willow and Kennedy were in New York, Xander was still in Africa and Faith wasn't due back for another week. That left Buffy, lugging her own bags up to the _third_ floor.

It was a hassle getting all of her luggage in the building – or, it was the way she did it; all at once. Why didn't she take the driver's offer of help? Better yet, why didn't she veto the "no elevator" rule when Xander first presented the plans for the renovations of the complex two years before?

Usually, she didn't mind the stairs, but between the flight, her achy, stuffy head and the cursed luggage, she wished for a more modern convenience than stairs.

Thankfully, she made it to the third floor and into her apartment without passing out or giving up, so she figured that miracles sometimes happened. Dumping her luggage into the foyer, she shed her jacket and hung it up in her closet.

As she kicked off her shoes, she shivered and slipped her feet into the warm woolly slippers that she favored on cold nights. She shuffled into the kitchen and readied some tea, putting the pot on the burner to heat.

Buffy had always thought of herself as a coffee drinker, until Spike introduced her to her first taste of real tea.

She closed her eyes, clearing her mind of Spike. She still kind of missed him, and it hurt when he didn't believe that she loved him, even if he was right.

Buffy searched through her assortment of teas she kept in clear glass jars, opting for the ginger blend tonight and spooned the loose leaves into strainer inside her pot.

She quickly changed into her flannel pajamas and returned to the kitchen just as the water started boiling. Once the hot water was poured into the teapot, she left the steeping tea on the counter and went to lite a fire in her fireplace. It didn't take long for the flames to catch on the wood and soon the quiet snapping and popping of the wood chased away the silence.

Turning out all the lights she curled up on the sofa with a hot cup of tea, looking into the fire. Her mind drifting to Sunnydale, to the life she had always resented.

A loud pop and hiss emitted from the fire and she blinked drowsily as she lay her head on the armrest. Within seconds, she was asleep.

_Akecheta walked through the darkness, only the light of the full moon to guide her. If she reached out her hand, she would feel the thick fur of her wolf companion. Silently they walked through the forest side by side. They had been patrolling together for hours and, when dawn arrived to chase away the shadows, the pair would return to the tribe._

_A twig snapped and echoed sharply in the stillness of the cool night. She and the wolf halted; Akecheta reached out and lightly touched his shoulders, running her fingers over the spiky hackles and giving the wolf a squeeze._

_He understood what she wanted him to do. Soundlessly, he padded away, leaving her alone._

_She walked forward, ever alert to her surroundings, and, though she could no longer see him, she knew the wolf stayed parallel to her._

_They continued this way for quite some time until the other sounds of the forest stopped, warning her to danger and sent her senses tingling._

_They had found her._

_She could feel them stalking her, taking their time but she knew they didn't know about her wolf and the thought made her smile._

_Inhaling the cool air through her nose, she opened her senses fully. She felt a rush of air and waited a heartbeat before ducking and pivoting on her right foot. She squatted low and shot her other leg out to trip her attacker. He fell on his back into the ground and she was on top of him instantly, pinning him._

_The attacker hissed at her, showing long fangs. His face was different from that of her tribe; his forehead full of ridges and bumps. She had seen his kind before and she felt no fear of him._

_She had two weapons that were sheathed on either hip. From the left sheath she pulled a wooden stake. She lifted her hands above her head and brought it down to plunge the stake into his chest. At the last moment she was pulled off of the body by another pair of hands and thrown into the forest floor, her stake flying out of her hand._

_She rolled to her back quickly, counting the dark figures that surround her, five in total, all hissing at her. She felt herself pulled effortlessly up, wincing slightly as the attacker yanked her arms harshly behind her back._

_Each attacker had identical features; sharp ridges and bumps on the forehead, yellow eyes and long fangs protruding from their mouth._

_Her first attacker glided forward, speaking in a language she couldn't understand. He reached out with his hand and stroked his finger down her cheek and under her chin. She couldn't understand his words, but his meaning was clear. He grasped her chin and twisted her head, leaning toward her neck with his mouth open._

_Akecheta laughed. Her attacker pulled back and looked at her, anger twisting his features and making them uglier. He growled out more unintelligible words and the man behind her pulled her arms back so hard it forced a cry of pain from her._

_Everyone around her smiled at the sound, some chuckling softly or licking their lips._

_The howl made each of her attackers stiffen in surprise. The sound grew louder, angrier. The men shifted uneasily, heads swiveling about as they tried to pinpoint the origin of the howl._

_The man in front of her whispered harshly at her, his words getting louder each time he repeated them. She stared blankly at him, unable to decipher his meaning. He growled in frustration, slapping her._

_The howling stopped, replaced by a low growl that reverberated through the night._

_The attacker behind her was the first to scream as he was abruptly pulled away and dragged a short distance._

_Her hands freed, Akecheta dropped to the ground and rolled forward, paying no attention to the snarling sounds and the screams of agony from behind. As she stood, she grabbed her other weapon, a blade made of flint. It wouldn't kill her attackers, but she would use it until she could find her stake – or any other piece of wood sharp enough._

_Two of her attackers lay on the ground; both were bloodied and shredded so badly they weren't able to move. Her companion, He-lush-ka; meaning fighter, same as her name, proved once again he was named well._

_The three attackers she faced bore long, bloody gashes from their battle with her. Unfortunately, they were still standing, and she now bore her own wounds. Though they throbbed, she knew from experience that they would heal quickly._

_He-lush-ka leapt upon another of her attackers as she snapped a branch from a tree. Breaking off a tip she flipped it in her hand, displaying the jagged edge that jutted outward. With deadly accuracy, she sunk the branch into the heart of her first attacker, then the other. Dust flew around her._

_The screams continued from the third attacker as her wolf bit into his throat. Walking to the other attackers who had already suffered the wrath of He-lush-ka, she stabbed each one in the heart._

_She turned to her wolf. The first rays of light were stretching across the sky, illuminating the forest as she walked toward him._

_"He-lush-ka," she said quietly._

_He snarled and snapped and tore into her attacker. She repeated his name again, reaching out her hand to touch his fur, now matted with blood and bits of flesh. At her touch he stilled and stopped. Breathing heavy, he stepped back._

_She knelt beside her last attacker. She didn't understand his words, but his tone was pleading. Her exertions over the fight showed in her own labored breathing and she knew she would be covered with bruises in the morning. She raised her head and gazed into the eyes of her wolf. Not sparing a glance at the figure on the ground as she pushed the broken branch into his chest._

_In the silence that surrounded them the wolf and the woman looked into each other's eyes._

_She reached out and gently stroked the wolf's face, then stood and turned to run, her laughter trailing behind her with the exhilaration of surviving another battle. The wolf raced beside her and side by side they traveled the forest._

_Just before their destination, the wolf veered slightly, and when she reached the hot spring and the clearing surrounding it, she was alone. Impatient, she passed time by gathering wood for a fire. It was always like this for them after a battle, if he had been in his natural form there would have been no need to wait._

_Once in a while, she paused, her head tilting as the sound of snapping and popping filled the air, interspersed with the occasional groan._

_Her movements were quick and efficient. Soon the crackling and snapping of the fire replaced the other snaps and pops. Satisfied that the fire would be sustained for some time, she stood._

_She knew he was close. She closed her eyes and felt his hands at her back, a smile slowly spread across her face, her expression full of anticipation and desire._

_He stepped closer and she leaned back into his arms. For a moment, she just enjoyed the sensation of his strong, muscular arms around her, the hardness of his chest at her back as she prolonging the moment, letting their desire build. She could take it no more; turning in his arms she faced her mate._

_"Akecheta," he groaned, kissing her neck and her mouth._

_The desire inside her flared and she pulled him roughly toward her, kissing him back._

_"He-lush-ka," she murmured against his lips. He pulled off her dirty, bloody leather clothes, pulling her into the hot, steamy water..._

Buffy opened her eyes, blinking at the daylight streaming in through a window. She looked around, surprised to see her apartment instead of the lush greenery of a forest.

The dream had been so real, so vivid. She swore she could still smell the earth. She swore she could still feel the hands on her back, feel lips on hers.

Yet, here she was. On her couch. In Cleveland. Alone.

Buffy shook her head. Walking into her bathroom she returned to reality. She stripped down and had a shower. A cold shower.

* * *

 

Oz stepped out the shower but could still feel the heat roll down him in waves. It had done nothing to quell his desire.

He had experienced dreams where he was a wolf before, but it had never been like this. His wolf dreams of the past mirrored the three nights when he used to turn during the full moon.

Memories, and always vague and undefined; just fleeting impressions and always difficult to recall when he awoke, with one exception.

There had been one person where he could be a wolf and still recall more than images and impressions.

This wolf dream had been different. Not only could he remember details, it was as if he had actually been there, inside the wolf, able to retain his own sense of self. Able to command the wolf. Was it even possible? To be the driver instead of the passenger? It had felt so real.

If he had been able to control his wolf like that, how different would his life be?

The woman and the wolf in his dream had been a team. The woman had no fear around the wolf and the wolf only desired to please his mate. Mate.

Oz closed his eyes. The dream still clung to him, as sharp as any memory. He could still remember it. The smell of the forest in the cool night, and then later in the crisp morning. How the sun's rays peeked above the tall trees, but the sun it's self-had yet to be seen.

_He-lush-ka could smell the burning wood, knew he was naked. He saw her stand gracefully and step back from the fire. When he touched her, she leaned back into him. The complete trust she had in him amaze him. That she accepted him as a man and as a beast humbled in him. Other women feared the beast inside him. Not Akecheta. She always held her own against the beast._

_He smelled her and smiled at the scent of desire that clung around her. His own desire was painfully obvious and he knew she was enjoying her power over him. After a battle, his warrior, his mate needed to be as wild and untamed as he was during the full moon. During this three day period, his needs were almost insatiable. Phasing into the wolf, gave him some form of relief._

_Now that he was in his natural form once again, it was difficult to hold back._

_As she spun around in his arms, he could see the wild passion and violence that in her eyes and knew it was mirrored in his own._

Oz blinked and groaned. Yep. The memories of his dream were just as vivid and clear now as they had been when he woke up.

Sighing, he turned on the cold water in the shower and stepped back in. At least the full moon was still two days away. If he was this horny now, he could only imagine how bad it would be during a full moon - especially since he had been able to stop phasing. Those damn herbs...

After his second shower Oz toweled off and changed into a pair of jeans. He moved to the living room. While waiting for his computer to turn on his popped Pearl Jam, a CD that decidedly matched his mood.

He sat at his computer, checking his email. The first email was from Devon, checking up on him. The band was going on tour in February and he was asking if Oz would re-consider touring with them.

Oz typed out a quick, if not somewhat vague, response and continued onto the next email. It was junk mail. He deleted most of them and looked at the remaining two emails.

_"Greetings Fellow Council Member,_

_It is hard to believe that another year has passed! So much has happened in the last year._

_The British branch of Watcher's Council has been firmly re-established in London, the Asian branch in Bangkok and the South American branch in Rio. We hope was to have a full report of any issues that these new councils are facing during the Annual Meeting. We are in the middle of negotiations in Africa to establish a council in Alexandria, Egypt._

_The annual Watcher's Council meeting will take place on December 22nd and 23rd, followed by the Yule Ball that evening (Formal attire only). Please remember that RSVP's are required. Please reply back with your acceptance/regrets as soon as possible. If accepting, you will receive an email with your travel itinerary shortly thereafter._

_Attached is the agenda for the annual meeting. If you would like to add any points of interest to the agenda, please submit your request no later than the close of business of Dec 10th._

_Sincerely,_

_Andrew Wells,_

_Manager, Office of the Council's Cleveland Office_

Oz was about to reply when he noticed the sender name of the last email. Hesitantly, he clicked it open. The message was brief.

" _3:30 PM._ "

No signature required. He could read a myriad of emotions in the short note. He knew how she felt; loathing, disgust, doubt, frustration and relief. He knew because he felt the same way.

He hated that her visits were necessary and he knew she felt the same. Yet, if she didn't come, it made everything those three nights during the full moon unbearable.

Hefting himself to his feet, Oz went to his spare room, changed the sheets and opened the window to air it out. Then he went to the guest bath and changed the towels as well. She would be here in two days, just before the rising of the first night of the full moon.

* * *

 

Buffy walked into the Council Offices, it too was on the top floor of the Academy. The offices were quiet, with an occasional ring of the telephone.

She walked into the last office, with its large window overlooking the courtyard. It was lunchtime and she knew she would find Giles in his office preparing for his afternoon class.

"Hey Giles, do you have a minute?" she asked.

With a wave of his hand, he motioned her inside.

She walked into his office and looked out of the window at the girls below. So young, she thought bitterly. Sighing, she pushed the bitterness aside.

Giles made a few notations in a notebook. Finally he looked up at her with a distracted smile. "Buffy, you're back already? I thought you weren't flying in until tonight?" His eyes widened in alarm as he flipped through his daily planner. "Who picked you up?"

"I just got in last night. I had my dates mixed up. I took a cab."

He nodded, sitting back in to his chair, relieved.

"Giles, how much of the Slayer history do we have archived?"

"Slayer history?" he repeated.

"You know - descriptions of previous Slayer's; who they were, when and where they lived."

Giles rubbed his chin, "Well, a good deal was destroyed when the council headquarters in London was blown up. Then when Sunnydale..." he trailed off.

"Became Craterville," she finished. They shared a small, sad smile.

"Quite," he said. "Well, my own archives were lost. We never expected the whole town to implode and plug the Hellmouth." His voice weighed heavily with regret.

"It was worth a shot," Buffy shrugged, standing up to leave.

"Why do you ask, Buffy? You have never really shown an interest in Slayer history before." Giles inquired absently as he thumbed through the text he was summarizing.

"I had a dream. I was a Slayer," she stopped and grinned at Giles' bewildered look. "A Slayer from long ago. I think I was Native American."

Giles paused, "You were this Slayer?"

Buffy nodded. "I've had other dreams of Slayers before, but this one was different. In the other dreams, I always felt like I was in the audience watching a movie or something. I never felt like events in the dream were actually happening to me."

Giles tapped his pen against his notebook thoughtfully. "Perhaps it wasn't a dream. Perhaps it was a memory, a Slayer memory."

"A memory...?" her voice dropped to a soft whisper. "Oh," she brightened, remembering something else. "Giles, didn't we scan some of your books into the computer back in Sunnydale? What did you do with the digital copies?"

Giles turned his attention back to his lecture notes. "We sent them to the Watcher's Council. I believe they were trying to create an online archive site. But the Council was assassinated before it was accessible." All those resources, he thought mournfully.

Giles missed the gleam that came into Buffy's eyes. When he looked up a moment later, she was gone.

Buffy was reluctant to call London to talk to Willow. Willow and Kennedy had been working tirelessly in London over the last few weeks; largely due to the conference calls with the various Councils over the world. They always kept odd hours, and she didn't want to risk waking her friend. Instead, she typed out a quick email.

She read over the words, which began like a to-do list rather than an email to a friend, but she decided that it would have to suffice. She was too tired to do much else.

_"Wil,_

_I'm home. Got in late last night. Had a weird dream. Giles thinks it might have been a memory._

_Remember those books we scanned into the computer in Sunnydale? Giles said he sent the files to the Watcher's Council in England. The council was creating a digital library, but the council was assassinated before it went live. Is it was possible that the online library was completed?_

_Could all those resources still be available, just not activated? What do you think? Can you look into it and let me know?_

_Miss you already! It's lonely on the third with everyone gone. Can't wait for everyone to be back together for Thanksgiving!_

_Lots of love,_

_B.S."_

She was about to log off, when she felt a presence in her doorway. Looking up, she saw Andrew standing before her with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Hey Andrew."

"Don't 'Hey Andrew' me! You're writing an email aren't you?" he accused her, scowling.

"Um...yes. But I am just about to leave so-"

Andrew interrupted her. "So if you are sending an email, you must have noticed new mail in your inbox. Did you read any of your mail?"

Buffy smiled. "Yes. Xander said that he has another meeting in Alexandria tomorrow, he thinks he might have found a suitable location outside of the town for the African headquarters."

Andrew's scowl deepened. "And?" he asked pointedly.

"Rich's emailed me a $20 early-bird Black Friday coupon. I also got a peek at their Black Friday specials. You're coming with, right?"

Andrew's features softened and he grinned. "Did Anakin embrace the dark side? Of course I'm going with you! We have been talking about this since- hey! No changing the subject missy." he scowled again. "Did you see any emails from The Cleveland Office of the Watcher's Council?"

"Oh that. Yep I saw it."

Andrew started to tap his shoe. "Well? Did it not say that RSVP's are required? You didn't RSVP!"

"Oh. Umm...I accept?" she smiled weakly as Andrew pursed his lips and walked over to her desk, muttering under his breath.

"Move." he ordered, leaning down and clicking her mouse a few times, then typed "Buffy Summers accepts." He clicked send.

"Honestly," he shook his head as he walked out of her office, "doesn't anyone remember etiquette these days?"

* * *

 

Oz had established a routine during the full moon cycle.

On the first day, he woke up and crushed the herbs until they were a fine powder. Then he poured juice into a glass and mixed the powder into the juice. He drank the mixture quickly, unable to stop the grimace from crossing his face as he drank. The sweetness of the juice did nothing to mask the bitter taste of the herbs.

Then he slapped on his cross-country skis and skied over 10 miles of trails. After he was finished, he showered. Then he went onto his wrap-around deck and faced the sun, hardly feeling the Alaskan cold.

He recited the chants that he had learned in Tibet a few years ago. Then he went down into his weight room.

The herbs and the chanting kept him from phasing during the night before, during and after a full moon, but there was a price. He found if he filled his days with exercise, it helped to...distract himself from the other side effects of the herbs. The day passed slowly, with a continual rotation of exercise, chanting, more exercise and then herbs. Most people would have been exhausted after the first hour or two. Oz was not most people.

At 3:30 on the dot, he heard the car and the knot inside him tightened. He hated this part - the part where they were disgusted with themselves. The car sat idle in his driveway for a few minutes and he knew she was trying to give herself courage to get out of the car. He always wished she would leave. He wouldn't blame her, but he was always grateful when she stayed.

The engine turned off and he heard the car door open. She was staying. He exhaled a sigh of relief but felt resentment.

Her pace was slow as she removed her one case from her trunk and climbed the steps; his pace was just as slow as he walked to the door and opened it.

"Hi Oz." Her eyes avoided his, looking past him into his home.

"Hi Sarah, come in." He stepped back, looking behind her as he held the door open wider.

Sunset came early in Alaska, the sun was already low over the horizon and the moon was ascending. He guessed the almost full moon would be in view within the next 20 minutes.

For a moment she seemed to hesitate. Then, she stepped across the thresh hold.

Minimal eye contact, minimal conversation. It was the same each month. He knew her name, her email address and that she too was a werewolf who had taken steps to prevent phasing. He assumed she lived in Alaska, possibly Canada, but he didn't know for certain because she always came to him.

She went straight to his spare room and he heard her unpack her toiletries and clothes.

He stepped out onto his balcony and walked around his house. Stars were coming out, the sky was darkening quickly.

A memory washed over him, those first few months when he started phasing in Sunnydale and Willow's discovery that reading to him while he was a wolf seemed to keep him calm. His friend's had made it their personal goal to find books that were Wolf-themed.

He couldn't remember anyone reading to him, except one person. For some reason he always had clearer memories of Buffy around him when he was a wolf than any other person. He assumed it was because she was a Slayer.

He smiled as he remembered one evening in particular.

_"Hey Oz." She was already in the library when he arrived._

_She was dressed in her workout clothes, a pair of pink sweat pants and a snug gray tank top. She had a small portable CD player on one of the tables and an assortment of CD's._

_"Willow tried to call you, but she won't be able to be here this weekend. Her aunt died and she and her parents are flying to Florida for the funeral. She won't be back until Monday. Giles and Xander both have the flu and Cordelia informed me that she actually has a social life, so you just have me. My mom is out of town on a buying trip for her gallery, she will be back on Monday, so I'm completely free."_

_Though she made it sound like she was here to keep him company, Oz knew it was to make sure he stayed safely locked up. Just last month, he had escaped and some people had died. Everyone, including himself, wondered if he was the beast that tore innocent people apart. It turned out that he had been innocent._

_Buffy looked at her watch. "You're here early. I didn't expect you for at least another hour."_

_Oz wandered around. "Nights like this make me wish I was more athletically inclined. I feel…," he searched for the right word "restless."_

_Buffy tilted her head and appraised him. "Restless huh? How else does the moon affect you?"_

_Oz thought for a moment. "Energetic. I usually want to do something physical, like running."_

_"It makes you stronger?" she grinned. "We have an hour, want to fight with me? I won't hurt you, but you could probably last longer than Giles. Let's test out your wolfy-ness."_

_Oz nodded. Anything was better than that restless feeling._

_Buffy looked in the weapons locker. "Can you use a sword?"_

_Oz shook his head._

_"No? Um … I guess knives are out then."_

_She bent down and rummaged through a drawer at the bottom of the locker. She pulled out some leg and arm pads and tossed them to Oz. "How about some hand to hand? I'll attack and you just block. If you want, you can wear those."_

_Oz inspected the pads curiously, turning them over in his hands. "Can we try it without them? I've always wanted to find out how much I can take." He tried to keep the excitement from his voice._

_Buffy nodded, her expression getting more animated. "Sure. I'll start off light, but let me know if I hit too hard. Do you want me to teach you a few basic blocks or do you want to just start sparring?"_

_"Let's see how it goes."_

_Buffy grinned with an exuberance that was infectious and Oz felt himself smiling back at her._

_She stepped forward and sent a left jab toward his face, which he blocked with his right arm._

_She paused, "Did that hurt?" She asked him curiously._

_"No, but you did say you were going easy."_

_Buffy smiled wider. "I lied, that wasn't easy; that semi-easy medium."_

_Turned out he didn't need the pads after all._

_They sparred for almost the full hour. Eventually, Oz started throwing his own punches, which once or twice managed to connect. Buffy's attacks were getting more aggressive, as were his. His punches and blocks weren't as clean as hers, but he was still standing._

_He sent another punch toward her, this time she grabbed his arm and stepped forward until she had his arm pinned against his back. Instinctively, Oz reached behind him and pulled her forward, flipping her over on to the floor._

_He had no time to smile over his victory, though. She raised her hips off of the ground, wrapped her legs around his waist and before he knew it, she had pulled him down to the floor and rolled over until she was straddling him._

_They were both breathing hard. All of his senses were humming. He could hear the air going in and out of her lungs; feel the pulse in her hands, where she pinned his arms on the floor; see the sheen of sweat on her body; smell her … arousal? Something inside him responded instantly._

_For a moment, neither of them looked away. Then her weight was off of his body and she was flipping through CD's. He went into the cage and closed the door._

_A few hours later, Buffy looked at the wolf sitting inside the cage. He paced around the interior of the cage restlessly. She had a stack of books in front of her. "Call of the Wild?" she asked out loud._

_He growled and she read off a few more titles, getting the same response._

_"In the mood for something different, huh? Let me see what else Giles has." She moved over to the old fashioned card catalog, muttering to herself "He really needs to update his system."_

_Finally she pulled out a card._

_"Here is something different. Hang on Oz." She walked up the short set of stairs and up and down rows until she found the book she wanted. Triumphantly, she returned holding the book up and waving it around._

_"Here is something new and wolf related. Hope you like it." She opened the book. "The Native Americans had wonderful names for each full moon._

_"Since they remembered things on the moon cycle, their month was about 28.5 days long; allowing for 13 full moons each year."_

_As she continued to read, the wolf stopped his restless pacing and lay down on the floor, his head on his front paws and facing her. He watched her, his expression alert._

_"Oh, November, that's this month! The moon in November is known as Beaver moon; named because it suggests a time when the beaver fur was at its most perfect stage. If the hunters did not gather by the next moon the beaver would be hibernating, the swamps would be frozen and a hunter would no longer be able to trap. Waterproof and warm, supplying oil that was prized as a hair protector, the beavers were valued for their beautiful hide."_

_She continued to read until Oz fell asleep._

He heard Sara close the bedroom door, the sound bringing him back to the present. The entire moon was visible in the sky. The door to his balcony slid open and she stepped outside. The air was frigid, but she wore no coat.

He turned to look at her, their eyes locked. There was no love or tenderness in their gaze, instead, there was a mixture of disgust, anticipation and desire. They both knew that their mutual disgust was directed inward and not toward the other.

Unable to hold back any longer, they launched themselves toward each other desperate for the other to satisfy their need.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay Tuned...


	3. Cold Moon (Part I)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is covering three separate time frames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my beta Spikes Real Lover but please note any mistakes are mine (I play around just before posting).  
> Thank you to Mark, who reviewed my fight scenes and offered technical assistance.

**December 2005**

 

Willow leaned back in her chair and stared blinking at the computer monitor before her.

"I did it," she said softly, then erupted in giggles. "Willow Rosenberg, Hacker Extraordinaire has returned!"

Her lips pressed into a pout at the lack of an answer.

Kennedy was leading Slayer Patrol tonight, leaving her all alone. She glanced at her watch a decided to she would take a chance that Buffy was still awake. As she staggered out of her chair, she gave a soft groan and took a moment to stretch. Spending hours on end on the piece of furniture made it, and her butt, enemies. Goddess, she was getting old, sitting for long periods wasn't as easy as it was in high school.

Giddy with success, the red head ignored the ache in her backside and quickly made her way out of her apartment door, across the hallway and knocked on the door across from hers.

"Who is it?" Buffy's voice was muffled and irritated.

"It's Willow," she answered.

"Come in."

Willow pushed open Buffy's door and her jaw dropped, laughter building inside.

"You okay, Buffy?" she asked, struggling to keep the mirth from her tone.

Buffy scowled as she surveyed her living room. "Do I look okay? Does this look okay?" Wildly, Buffy gestured at her living room floor. "It's impossible! I can't do it Willow. This is too evil and complicated." The helpless Slayer turned to her friend.

"Sure you can, I'll even help." It wasn't often Buffy couldn't handle something on her own, and Willow was glad to be _her_ rescuer this time.

The creases on Buffy's forehead smoothed out and she beamed at Willow in hope. "You will?"

Once again biting back laughter, Willow bent down and picked a tangled mass of Christmas tree lights. "Yep. Here, you hold this end and I'll begin untangling."

"Stupid lights," Buffy grumbled.

"Well, I know something that will make you smile," Willow said, a smile of her own spreading across her face.

"I doubt it, but give it your best shot."

"I was finally able to access the elusive Watcher's Online Library!" Willow squealed.

"You _are_ a goddess!" Buffy cried as a smile spread across her face.

"I really am." Willow agreed as she continued to untangle the Christmas tree lights.

* * *

 

The next morning, Buffy looked at the site Willow had been able to access. The Council's archival library was amazing. As much as she had resented their high-handed attempts at interfering in her life, she had to admit that the researchers at the old Watcher's Council had been good at putting information together.

Thanks to Willow's hacking skills, the online library was now available. Using the built-in search engine, Buffy reviewed the Slayer archives.

The list that popped on screen humbled her.

The old headquarters had been destroyed before they had even thought of doing a spell to activate all of the potential slayers. At the time the council had put the library together, Faith was the newest slayer to be called; second on the list Kendra, followed by Buffy's own name and an endless list of the slayers that had come before Buffy.

Buffy clicked on her name, peering behind her shoulder as though she was worried about getting caught. Buffy rolled her eyes at her behavior and focused on the words in front of her.

When it had come to her life, the council had no problems with becoming invasive.

The data was extensive. It began with Slayer statistics – birth date, the date she was called and her vitals. There were notes on her initial contact and her relationship with Merrick, her first watcher. There were photos of her walking around the campus of Hemry High with her friends and a photo of Merrick. Looking at his picture, Buffy blinked at the moisture in her eyes. _If only I could have saved you…_

Quickly, she moved on and began reading. For the most part, it was an accurate accounting of her time in LA and Sunnydale. There were notes on Angel; with cross references to Angelus.

There were files within files. One file, titled "Known Enemies," had sub-files on Spike, Drusilla, Mayor Richard Wilkins and Glory. Even the evil trio each had files.

 _Andrew will be so proud_ , she thought to herself.

Another section detailed her relationships; Angel, Scott, Parker, and Riley were mentioned here. Spike's name was not on this list. Buffy wondered if it was because the council really had no idea or if they just preferred to leave his name out.

Giles, Willow and Xander each had their own files as well as Cordelia and Oz - even a brief mention of Kathy, her roommate in College and people she had worked with at the Double-Meat Palace.

As Buffy began clicking through various files, she realized that a Slayer's Watcher played an important role in feeding the information to the Council. Her training with Merrick was heavily detailed with first-hand accounts of conversations between the two of them. During her first year in Sunnydale, Giles had been just as conscientious in his reports. There were sketches, photographs, excerpts from texts that she remembered from the Sunnydale school library and a photocopied page from the Codex. Here she paused and read over the prophecy the predicted her death at the hands of the Master.

As she read through the information on her second year at Sunnydale, Buffy began to notice the gaps. The information wasn't as thorough; Giles' reports became vague as the year progressed. Mystified, Buffy continued to read. When she was done she realized two things.

First, there was no mention of Jenny Calendar, other than the fact that she taught Computer Sciences and Angelus killed her. The omission of Jenny Calendar was not a mystery to Buffy. She reasoned the from Giles' perspective, his relationship with Jenny had become personal, not professional and therefore had no place in his reports to the Watcher's Council.

Second, although Giles included Oz in his reports to the Council, not once did he mention that Oz was a werewolf. Try as she might, Buffy could think of no possible reason why Giles hid this from the Council.

She exited out of the current file and found the file with Oz's name on it. For a brief moment, she hesitated before she clicked on the file. It was empty.

Who would erase Oz's file? Better yet, why empty the file but not delete it?

_**High school, senior year.** _

" _Nnnrf." Buffy repeated once again, unable to speak clearly due to the demon hand gripping her throat, blocking her airway. Desperately, she pointed to the picnic table, where Willow was rummaging through a bag._

_Xander was rubbing the back of his head, on the road to recovery from his brief bout of unconsciousness, the result of his attempt to 'help' Buffy. They were north of  Riverside Park, in a wooded area._

" _Oh, nurf!" Willow said with dawning comprehension. "Not nurf. Knife!" She picked up the knife and threw it to Buffy._

_Buffy caught it and soon the demon was toast._

" _Okay. That was too close for comfort. Not that slaying is ever comfy, but... you know what I mean? If you guys hadn't been here to help..." She said dryly._

_Immediately, she felt bad. Willow and Xander had been off their game. Just a few days before, it had been discovered that Xander and Willow had developed feelings for each other – the romantic kind of feelings. To further complicate matters, their secret relationship had been discovered by their significant others._

_Buffy sat on the picnic table and listened to the pair as they chatted. Xander still had no luck with Cordelia, who refused to return his sixty or so phone calls; Willow was having similar non-luck with Oz._

_What did they expect? She wondered impatiently. If Willow and Xander had developed feelings, especially the smooch-y kind, and decided to act on them, they should have said something to Cordelia and Oz, instead of hiding it from everyone._

_Cordelia might have been the Queen Bitch of Sunnydale high, but even Buffy could see how much she liked Xander. And Oz – well, she wouldn't think about Oz right now._

_Xander and Willow were fools, Buffy thought. Guilt washed over her even as she thought it._

" _At least tomorrow is Monday, another school day." Willow's voice was hopeful._

_Buffy pushed aside her irritation and tried to be support-o gal. "Well that's good. You know, focus on school. That's the strong, Willowy way to heal."_

" _Actually, I was more thinking Oz will be there and I can beg for forgiveness."_

Was Oz the forgiving type? _She looked at Willow, with her sweet face and puppy dog eyes. Absently, Buffy responded to Willow in a half-hearted attempt to cheer her. Why did the thought of Oz forgiving Willow make her feel slightly ill? She remembered the previous month when they had sparred and how she just wanted to grab him and …oh god! She was so not one to judge!_

_Another wave of guilt flooded over her._

"… _wanna be Strong-Willow." Willow was saying._

_Buffy shook her head and tried to focus on her best friend._

" _But then I think I may never get to be close to Oz again and it's like all the air goes out of the room."_

" _I know the feeling." Buffy blurted and widened her eyes as she realized what she had just said and quickly snuck a peek at her friends. Luckily, they misunderstood._

" _Right. I mean you went through it with Angel and you're still standing."_

_Angel. Buffy sighed. Of course, they thought she was talking about Angel. When had her feelings become so complicated?_

_Willow and Xander left the park and Buffy dealt with the gruesome and time consuming task of clearing-out the demon's body._

_The sun had finished setting and Buffy hefted her weapons bag over her shoulder when she was done. She still had to patrol before heading home. Thunder rumbled and in the distance and ightening flashed. Buffy sighed. She was so not waterproof right now and she wondered if she should add one of those poncho rain coats (the kind that folded into a small pocket) to her weapons bag._

_As she got closer to town, she took the left fork on the path that went through the woods, knowing it would be a shortcut to Alpert Cemetery. It was small, quiet and one of Buffy's favorite cemeteries to visit._

_Alpert Cemetery had been a private cemetery for the Alpert family – one of the wealthiest families to ever reside in Sunnydale. The most recent burial was Amelia Alpert, who had been buried in 1989. Why there was a tomb for Marc Alpert at Restfield, instead of here, had always been a mystery to Buffy, Xander and Willow. When Buffy had first come to Sunnydale, they had tried to do some research but had found very little. All they knew what that the family had been wealthy and very reclusive, staying out of the media spotlight. Amelia Alpert was the last known member of the Alpert family to have lived in Sunnydale, the other members of her family had long since moved north._

_She expected to find the cemetery deserted, not Oz trying to fight off a gang of five vampires._

_Thunder rumbled again, lightening flashed. Oblivious to her presence, Buffy took a moment to assess the situation. He had knocked one vamp to the ground and a second one was attacking him. He was able to defend himself by successfully blocking the vamps punches and kicks while keeping his balance, but his offensive skills needed more work. The vampires were in no hurry to kill him, instead charging him one at a time while the others threw taunts and insults._

_They were toying with him._

_Reaching her bag, Buffy took out her crossbow and rapidly fired off three shots, effectively eliminating three of the vampires. Oz continued to fight the vampire that had charged him while the one on the ground pushed himself to his feet._

" _Hey! We were having fun!" he hissed at her._

_Buffy pouted. "And you didn't invite me? I wanna have fun."_

_Quickly, she ran forward and flipped over the grave marker. She landed in front of the vampire then maneuvered her body until she was standing beside Oz as he continued to block the other vamp's attacks. For a moment, she watched Oz as she automatically blocked punches and kicks from the vamp attacking her._

" _Hey Oz," she smiled cheerfully._

" _Hey Buffy," he answered, keeping his eyes on his attacker._

" _You doing alright?" Buffy looked him up and down, noting a bruise forming on his cheek. He didn't seem to be out of breath though._

_Wordlessly, Oz tossed his head upwards, toward the sky and blocked the vamps attempt to backhand him._

_Buffy glanced up and smiled at the almost-full moon. Oz was feeling a little wolf-y tonight._

" _Want another lesson in hand to hand, Oz?" Some part of her was trying to tell her that prolonging the fight would not be a good idea. She should dust the vamps and get on with her patrol. Recklessness outweighed reason though. Adrenaline surged inside her. She glanced behind her and saw the walls of Amelia Alpert's tomb._

" _First, you should disorient your opponent." She grabbed her vamp by the shoulders and pulled him forward as she backed toward the wall. At the last moment, she stepped to her right and used the vamps momentum to propel him toward the walls of the tomb._

" _Go on, now you try." She nodded toward Oz's vamp._

" _Yeah. Try." The vamp said as he shifted his weight and went into a defensive stance._

" _Of course, he is expecting you to attack, so you should probably distract him first."_

_Buffy's vamp stood up and shook his head as he came toward her. Buffy looked at the vamp and smiled. "You should probably stay down a little longer. We aren't ready for lesson two yet." Then, with a spinning kick, she sent him back toward the wall._

" _Distract?" Oz repeated the word quietly to himself._

_Buffy looked at Oz and nodded. "Distract, then disorient."_

_For a moment Oz considered the vamp in front of him and then he smiled. "Sorry, buddy." He said with sincerity._

" _Huh? Why are you sorry?" The vamp stared at Oz, confused._

" _For this."_

_Oz stepped forward, grabbed the vamp by the shoulders and kneed him in the groin and walked, backwards. Helplessly, the vamp stumbled along, with a groan of pain. Then he repeated Buffy's maneuver until the vamp crashed into the wall._

" _Excellent. Now, let's work on your offensive," Buffy said._

_Together, they turned and faced the vamps as they tried to regain their balance. Fat drops of rain splattered on the ground._

" _So, let's start with the jab…" Buffy began._

Buffy blinked away the memory and stared at her monitor. Shaking her head, she moved her cursor. She was going to click on another file when her cursor went over Oz's file and quick image flashed and disappeared.

_What the hell?_

Again, Buffy moved her cursor towards the icon with Oz's name. The image flashed again. Again and again, Buffy watched as her actions made the image flash. She couldn't get a clear picture of the image, but something about it was familiar. She knew she had seen it before.

* * *

 

Oz finished typing the final words on his report for the Council and ran his hand through his hair.

God, he was tired. He had been in Oregon for over two weeks and found it difficult to stay focused on Council/Werewolf politics. At least this time, the werewolves hadn't rejected the offer outright. That was progress, right?

Skimming his report, he checked it for errors. Once satisfied, he emailed the document to Giles.

He opened his email, surprised to see that he had twenty unopened emails. He hadn't realized he had been _that_ busy.

He sorted through them, picking out the junk.

Devon wrote with updates on Dingoes Ate My Baby and included some tour dates. Even if Oz couldn't be with them, Devon said that the band hoped he would still come to see them play.

Oz sent a quick reply, telling Devon he would be sure to come see them at least once.

The next email was from the Watcher's Council.

" _Greetings Fellow Council Member,_

_This is a reminder that the annual Watcher's Council meeting will take place on December 22nd and 23rd, followed by the Yule Ball that evening (Formal attire only). Our office has yet to receive an acceptance or regrets for the invitation. As stated in an earlier email, an_ _**RSVP is required.** _

_Attached is the agenda for the annual meeting. If you would like to add any points of interest to the agenda, please submit your request no later than the close of business of Dec 10th._

_Sincerely,_

_Andrew Wells,_

_Manager, Office of the Council's Cleveland Office"_

Oz noted that there were three more emails from Mr. Wells, following a similar pattern until the most recent email simply said:

" _Mr. Osborne,_

_Are you coming or not?_

_Andrew Wells,_

_Manager, Office of the Council's Cleveland Office"_

Oz smiled a little at the peevish tone of the email. He sent a reply.

It took him another half an hour before he was finished reading and replying to the remaining emails, the longest from his mother. She was planning a family reunion in June and she made it clear that she would accept no excuses this time. She expected to see him there.

Stifling a yawn, Oz shut down his laptop. It was too early for bed. He changed clothes, grabbed his room key and went down to the hotel's weight room.  
Within five minutes he was counting his reps, he bench pressed the weights and he let his thoughts drift to Cleveland.

Over the last few years he had bumped into Willow and Xander as everyone worked hard to rebuild the Watcher's Council. His first contact with the Sunnydale gang had come in the form of Giles, who had tracked Oz down in Alaska.

Initially, Oz had been reluctant to have anything to do with the Watcher's Council. Since leaving Sunnydale, he had heard rumors about the Council's attitude toward Werewolves. While not outwardly hostile, the Council had made it clear in the past that when it came to Werewolves and suspected foul play, the rule was shoot silver bullets first and ask questions later.

Giles wanted to improve relations with the werewolves, even wanted to offer them representation on the Council. He had enlisted Oz's help.

* * *

 

_**April 2004** _

_Soon after Oz was approached by Giles, he had bumped in Xander at the Atlanta airport of all places. They both had a few hours before the next flight and spent time catching up in an airport bar._

_The conversation flowed easily, and stayed superficial. Because it was an obvious question, Oz asked Xander about his eye and was sure there was more to the story when Xander simply said, "I lost it in a fight."_

_When it was time to part ways, they exchanged email addresses promising to keep in touch._

_To Oz's surprise, they did. They corresponded often. After getting one email from Xander, who was complaining about the overabundance of estrogen, and something he called 'the syncing of cycles,' at the temporary training center._

_Oz invited Xander to come stay with him in Alaska for a few days. Two days later, Xander was knocking at his door._

" _You know, I thought you were joking when you said that you lived in a remote area!" Xander joked when Oz opened the door._

_Oz smiled happily and invited his old classmate inside._

_Xander looked around the interior of Oz's entry way and commented "And, can I just say 'Holy Schmolly Batman?' If the Council is paying you this well as an ambassador, I should ask for a raise!" Oz made no comment._

_With Willow, it began with a phone call that he got at two AM a few months later. He was at a hotel in Toronto and, as was his standard practice anytime he was away from his home, he had his home calls routed to his cell phone._

" _Okay mister, I want an explanation!" she said._

" _Willow?"_

" _Oh! Well! At least you still remember my name!" Willow's voice was a high pitched, and Oz backed the cell away from his ear a little._

" _Of course I remember your name." Oz said, sounding placating._

" _Well what a surprise! So, why don't I get phone calls like Giles? Why don't I get emails like Xander? How come you haven't invited me to your home in Alaska?"_

_Oz was at a loss for words, he seized on the last thing she said. "You want to come to Alaska?"_

" _You know what I mean Oz!" her voice was a mix of exasperation and hurt._

" _I didn't think ... after the last time…" he paused, unsure of how to continue._

" _Yeah well stop thinking and get your ass to Cleveland to see me. You have one week buster. And if you don't show up, then you will have one pissed off Wicca who is… well… pissed off at you." She hung up._

_He called down to the front desk and inquired about an all night car rental agency. An hour after checking out of the hotel he was heading toward the border._

_When he had been in Alaska, Xander had shown him the location for the new headquarters. Oz knew that the final stage of moving into the new offices was complete. Seven and half hours after leaving Toronto, Oz pulled into the complex. It was 10:30 AM._

_He drove the rented Lexus into a vacant parking spot, beside a black and red Dukati motorcycle. He took a moment to admire the machine and mentally calculated how many days he had before the snow in Alaska melted and he could take his own motorcycle out of the garage._

_Too many, he thought with a grimace._

_He entered in to Academy and found the directory on the main floor, listing the location of offices. Noting the lack of elevators, he took the stairs to the top floor. As he reached the landing, his ears picked up the unmistakable sound of Willow giggling. He followed the sound to the open door of her office._

_Her red hair was long, hanging down her back in one long braid, her face flushed with mirth. She looked happy. Really happy._

"… _and the look on the pompous old bastard's face was priceless," a dark haired woman said._

" _Willow, you didn't!" Xander's voice rang out._

" _Darn tootin' I did. Kennedy is right. He was a pompous old bastard." Again Willow giggled._

_The dark haired woman, Kennedy, he assumed, walked back to Willow and dropped a light kiss on Willow's lips and turned back to Xander with a grin. Willow's eyes sparkled and the sight warmed Oz's heart._

_Without missing a beat, Kennedy turned her head to Oz. "Who are you?" she asked bluntly._

_Willow turned her head and gasped with surprise. For a moment, Oz tensed and watched her carefully. The last time he saw her, he had been leaving Sunnydale and Willow had been crying. Then she grinned and flew towards him, laughing when he picked her up and swung her in a circle._

" _Oz! You really came. It is so good to see you!"_

_He didn't miss the way Kennedy said his name softly and stood, hands loose at her sides but her lithe body posture indicating she was ready for anything._

_He put her down and tweaked her nose. "Hey, I am not dumb enough to piss off a powerful Wicca such as you."_

" _Oh!" she said distressed, "you didn't really think…? 'Cause I would never…"_

_Oz shook his head. "I would never think that," he assured her and was rewarded with a sunny smile and a quick, hard hug._

_Kennedy cleared her throat and, taking her cue, Willow introduced them. Giving him a pointed look, Kennedy slipped her hand into Willow's. If Oz had any doubts about her relationship with Willow, then Kennedy's actions would have erased them. Oz smiled at Kennedy._

" _It's good to meet you Kennedy." He hoped she heard the sincerity in his tone._

_They spent a few minutes catching up, Willow remarking on his almost magical ability to appear in Cleveland when she had only called him the night before. With a serious expression, Oz told her that he had recently mastered the power of apparition. For a moment, her brown, startled eyes met his and then she blinked and started to grin, punching him on the shoulder._

_Xander asked how long he would be in town. Oz paused and realized he hadn't thought that far ahead._

_"I'm not sure. It could a day or two, three at the most. I have to be back in Alaska by Sunday." Monday was the first night of the full moon._

_"Quality time with the Oz-Meister!" Xander said, a-la Richie from Saturday Night Live._

_"Really Xander? I thought you had stopped talking like that. Sorry, Oz. He has been watching SNL re-runs and -"_

_Xander interrupted Willow. "Well, since someone, "Xander nodded his head in Willow's direction, "bought me a box set for my birthday, then someone shouldn't be complaining."_

_Oz put his hip against Willow's desk and watched as Willow and Xander teased each other back and forth. He didn't miss the way Kennedy watched him or the fact that she still had not let go of Willow's hand._

" _Lunch! We should all go to lunch!" Willow said, turning to Oz. "You can go to lunch with us!"_

_"Willow, do you really think… I mean Oz just got here," Kennedy objected. "He probably needs to find a hotel. Have you found a hotel, Oz?"_

_Oz shook his head._

_"No! No hotel. We have lots of space." Willow's face brightened and Kennedy's face tightened._

_"Willow, I don't think-" Kennedy started._

_"It's fine Kennedy." Willow said, staring at Kennedy, who started back, a stubborn look on her face, as if some kind of silent conversation going on between the two of them._

_(A voice laughed softly from down the hall.)_

_"Well, I don't want to put anyone out -" Oz started, distracted by the familiar laugh._

_"We have fourteen empty units at the living quarters. Oz can use one of those." Xander gave a meaningful look toward Kennedy and she sighed, all protest gone._

_"A hotel will be fine. I was planning on staying a one nearby." he assured them._

_(He heard footsteps approaching.)_

_"Nope. You can stay in our building in one of the empty units. It's convenient and you can't beat the price."_

_Willow nudged Kennedy, who rolled her eyes and then said, "We would really like it if you could stay."_

_(He could smell a familiar scent.)_

_Willow beamed._

_"Then it's settled!" Xander said. He and Willow smiled at each other, Kennedy rolled her eyes with an audible sigh and Oz decided to give in._

" _What's settled?" A person in the door way asked._

_(She's here.)_

_Oz took a moment before turning around, falling into the old habit of clearing his face of all expression._

_"Hi Buffy." He allowed a small, polite smile._

_(Just two old acquaintances from high school, he reminded himself.)_

_"Hello Oz. It's nice to see you." Her expression was friendly, but her smile barely seemed to touch her eyes._

" _You too," he answered._

" _Nice to see you…? You too…?" Xander stepped forward, incredulous. "You aren't strangers. It's Oz! Buffy, we haven't seen him in years."_

_A slight flush appeared on Buffy's cheeks. "Of course." She stepped toward Oz and wrapped him a loose hug. "It really is good to see you, Oz."_

" _It's Oz!" Willow cried with delight._

_Simultaneously, Xander and Willow hugged them; squeezing Buffy and Oz close together._

_(His head turned towards hers and for the first time their eyes locked.)_

_Buffy stumbled closer toward Oz as Willow and Xander threw their arms around them and squished them both together. What had started out as a loose hug now involved full contact. Instinctively, her fingers gripped his shoulders and his hands tightened on her hips. Willow and Xander started bouncing up and down, their jostling movements pushing them closer to each other._

_Buffy's eyes darkened and her fingers dug painfully into his shoulders; Oz stifled a groan and squeezed her hips._

" _I need…" she whispered, the sound no louder than a sigh._

_He closed his eyes as he felt her breath on his neck. For a moment, her grip pulled his shoulders toward her and he pulled her hips towards him. "I need…" she whispered again._

" _Guys," she said loudly, her voice held the slightest tremor. "Guys, I need to breathe. Oz probably does too."_

_At once, they all stepped apart. Xander and Willow laughed, apologizing for getting carried away. Xander turned to Oz._

" _Oz, I should show you to the quarters and get you settled into a unit. Then we can all meet for lunch."_

_The phone on Willow's desk rang and Kennedy picked up the receiver as Willow and Xander debated about which restaurant to go to for lunch. They had decided on a nearby diner when Kennedy hung up the phone._

" _Xander, that was Andrew. He was calling to let you know that your eleven o'clock appointment is here._

_Xander groaned. "I forgot. Sorry Oz. Umm Willow? Can you take Oz over to the apartments?"_

_It was Kennedy that shook her head. "Will, you're teaching a class in Meditation at eleven."_

_Willow nodded. Everyone turned to look at Buffy, who was looking out the window seemingly lost in her thought. At the sudden silence, she looked toward the group._

" _You can take Oz over to the apartments, can't you?" Willow asked._

_Something flickered across Buffy's face then she crossed over to Oz._

" _Hi!" she said in a chipper voice. "My name is Buffy and I will be your tour guide for the day. If you would follow me…" she walked backwards out of the office, gesturing for Oz to follow "On your left, you will see the new administrative offices of the Watcher's Council and on your right you will see a blank wall."_

_Oz followed._

* * *

 

Oz had lost track of how many sets he had done with the weights. He grabbed his towel and left the weight room and returned to his hotel.

That night he dreamed again about the woman and the wolf. When he woke, his body was tight and throbbing with desire and he gazed at the ceiling, stunned.

At some point in the dream, the woman's hair had turned from black to blonde; her eyes had changed from brown to green. At the end, when she turned towards him, she was no longer the woman called Aketcha. She was Buffy.

* * *

 

Buffy sprung from her bed and looked around her Cleveland apartment bedroom. "Oz?" she whispered.

TBC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you liked what you have read so far, leave a review! I really want to know how people feel about this, even if Buffy/Oz isn't one of your favorite 'ships. Hope to answer a few lingering questions in part two and some of the next chapters. And to clarify, in case it wasn't clear, the Cold Moon chapters will focus on three specific time lines. Present covers 2005 and the fourteen months leading up to the prologue, the recent past in 2004, and Senior year in high school.


	4. Cold Moon (Part II)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We continue with the three timelines...

**December 2005**

Buffy sat up in her bed. "Oz?" she whispered.

Her room was still dark as morning hadn't arrived in Cleveland yet. She lay on her bed and stared at the ceiling as she thought about her dream. What had happened?

Once again, she had been the Native American Slayer. She was standing near the hot springs watching the steam rise up from the water and listening to the footsteps of her mate as he approached her from behind. Everything about the dream had been the same as the first time she had dreamed it. Except when she turned, the face of companion changed. His dark brown eyes became blue and his medium length sleek black hair became short, slightly spiky and red. He became Oz.

And then Buffy remembered two things.

The first thing she remembered was the image she had seen earlier when she had gone through the council files on her computer. When she had moved the cursor over Oz's file icon, an image had flashed quickly across the screen. Buffy thought it familiar, but she wasn't able to place it at the time. Now Buffy remembered.

The second thing she remembered was that _this part_ of the dream was eerily familiar – she had dreamed it before.

* * *

 

**High school, Senior Year…**

Together, they turned and faced the vamps as they tried to regain their balance. Fat drops of rain splattered on the ground in an irregular rhythm, which Buffy and Oz ignored.

"So, let's start with the jab…" Buffy began. They each faced their opponent. She held her hands in front of her face, one loose fist in front of the other. Out of the corner of his eyes, Oz watched her movements and then imitated her. Having regained their balance, both vampires were standing with their backs to the wall.

"Your jab is used for many things, and most importantly to set your opponent up and keep him off balance." Quickly, Buffy snapped a jab at her vampire with her left hand. Oz copied Buffy's movements, she wasn't surprised when the vampire blocked his punch.

"You begin by extending your arm outwards from your shoulder, rotating your wrist, so by the time the punch lands, your palm is pointing towards the ground " Again she demonstrated. Her vamp shook then recovered quickly after her left jab connected. She was more focused on Oz than she was the vampire.

"When you throw the jab, the same shoulder should protect your chin from being knocked out." Quickly, she snapped another punch toward the vampire in front of her. "You have to be sure that you let the power drive through your punch before you pull back." With his back to the wall, the vampire had no place to move. The jab connected with his jaw and the momentum knocked his head back into the concrete wall. He grunted in pain.

For a moment, she relaxed her stance and turned toward Oz. He looked at his vampire foe, who gave him a cocky grin as the vampire put his own fists up in front of his face, his stance defensive. Clearly, the vampire had also paid attention to her lessons.

With a quiet "Sorry dude." Oz reached up, grabbed the vampire, pulled him away from the wall and abruptly kneed him in the groin, using all of his strength to do so. The vampire grunted upon impact. Before he could regain his balance, Oz clipped him on the chin with two left jabs. Just for fun, he also hit him with a right cross.

"Nicely done." Buffy grinned at him. "I see you've learned the right cross. What do you need lessons from me for? Great combination."

The raindrops grew smaller but the tempo increased as lightning flashed again, brightening the darkened area around them briefly. Oz continued to try various combinations on the vampire. Right jab, right jab, left cross; left jab, left cross, right jab. Oz grinned in satisfaction each time his fist connected with his target.

Side by side, they fought their opponents. Oz blinked the rain out of his eyes as it poured and slid down his face. Then with a loud roar, thunder rumbled overhead and a series of flashes once again lit up the area around him. Faster than he thought possible, a stake appeared in Buffy's hands and the two vampires were dust. Over the rumble of the weather, Buffy yelled "We need to move. This storm is getting dangerous." As if to emphasize her words, the lightning flashed once more and hit the branch of a nearby tree sending one of its limbs crashing to the ground and filled the air with the odor of singed wood.

Oz grabbed her hand and pulled her around the wall of the Alpert crypt and toward the door of the building. As he grabbed the door handle, Buffy remembered her weapons bag.

"I'll be right back" she yelled and Oz nodded. The handle would not turn, so he had begun to batter the door with his shoulder. The door opened and Oz went inside as Buffy sprinted across the grass towards the trees where she had left the bag. Hefting the bag over her shoulders, she sprinted back towards the crypt. As soon as she entered, Oz pushed the heavy door closed and they were plunged into darkness. Buffy dropped her bag onto the floor and fumbled with the zipper of the canvas duffel bag. The zipper pulled open and she felt around until she located the long cylinder. She pulled the object out of the bag and pushed the switch. A strong beam of light focused on the inside wall of the crypt. Buffy reached into her bag and pulled out another object.

"Catch." She tossed the object to Oz and he neatly caught it. A moment later a second beam of light joined hers.

Oz walked over to Buffy and nudged her bag with the toe of his boot. "Got a towel or any dry clothes in there?" he joked.

Buffy shook her head and sighed. "We should be so lucky. If only crossbows, bolts, knives and daggers were clothes and towels, then we would be set."

Buffy glanced over at Oz. His hair was wet and spiky, his soaked shirt clung to his body like a second skin. Unhesitant, he whipped off his shirt and wrung the water out of it, then used it as a towel to absorb the wetness from his face.

Buffy's eyes lingered over his exposed chest, at the definition of muscles that moved as he wiped himself off. Last month, she had felt the muscles on his chest when they were sparring; now she took a moment to enjoy the view. It was obvious he had been working out a lot since he had become a werewolf and she had to resist the urge to reach out to touch him.

Once again, she reminded herself that Oz was Willow's boyfriend, she was sure that there was a clause in the Girlfriend Code that prohibited secret lustful thoughts about said girlfriend's boyfriend. Bad Buffy, bad! She mentally slapped her wrist and chastised herself. No lookie!.

Oz paused and pulled his shirt away from his face. For a moment, he tilted his head, his eyes moving around the room until they rested on her. Trying to appear more nonchalant, and less like a horny teen-aged girl, Buffy trained her light on the walls of the crypt.

"I have never been in this crypt before. Usually, I have to clean out a few vampires that nest in some of the older crypts, but I have never found a nest near this one." She walked around, shining the light on the walls. She heard the sound of water trickling onto the floor and glanced back to see Oz attempting to wring the excess moisture from his shirt.

The rain pounded on the ceiling of the crypt and Buffy looked up. A shiver traveled down her spine.

"I'm grateful for the shelter, but I wish these crypts came with central heating." She joked as she turned the flashlights beam back toward Oz, who was once again wringing the water from his shirt and laying it flat on the sarcophagus that dominated the center of the stone room. He looked over at her and was about to say something then he stopped.

"What?" Buffy asked.

"It's nothing." He said, looking uncomfortable.

"Come on, you can tell me Oz." she smiled at him.

"You won't like it," he warned her.

"I'm a big girl."

"You will get warmer faster if you take off your clothes," he told her. At her expression, the corners of his lips curved in an embarrassed smile. "I said you wouldn't like it."

If it had been Xander, she would have laughed and told him to put his pervy fantasies away because that would so not happen, but this was Oz and she was more worried about her pervy fantasies coming to light. Oz had never given Buffy any indication that he was attracted anyone other than Willow. She had never even seen him look at any other girl while he was dating her best friend.

Except for that one time last month, a little voice whispered, when she had been straddling him. But, she reasoned, he was a teen-aged boy after all - according to Xander, watching paint dry could get any teen-aged boy excited.

Oz turned his back to Buffy. She could hear the zip of his jeans and then he was pushing them down.

She didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed to see that he was wearing boxers. (Disappointed, her inner horn-dog whispered, definitely disappointed.)

"I know it might be uncomfortable, but this storm shows no sign of letting up soon." To prove his point, the thunder rumbled loudly and the pounding of the rain increased on the roof. He started to wring the water out from his jeans.

Self-consciously, she fingered the hem of her shirt. Oz was laying out his jeans on top of the sarcophagus, hardly even noticing she was there. Placing her flashlight on top of the sarcophagus, Buffy made her decision. Quickly, she pulled off her top and twisted it to let the water drip onto the floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Oz as he walked away and inspected the walls of the crypt keeping his back to her. He seemed to say something under his breath, but the words made no sense – something about archangels and beasts. Hastily, she removed her jeans, and wrung the water from those as well.

She was laying her clothes flat when her fingers brushed against the indentation on the top of the sarcophagus. Curious, she picked up her flashlight and trained it on the top of the stone coffin to get a closer look.

"I wonder what this is?" she said aloud. She traced the lines carved into the stone.

"What did you find?" Oz walked toward her then hesitated.

Forgetting her undressed state, Buffy beckoned him over. "Look at this. Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Buffy bent her head closer to the stone and peered at the lines etched beneath her fingers.

Oz moved closer. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure. It is a circle etched into the stone and there another drawing etched inside the circle. I can't make it out."

Oz stood beside her and Buffy shifted to her left, so he could get a better look at the etching. She pulled her flashlight back and he peered down at the lines. He frowned for a moment and then he straightened up. For a moment, a look strange look flitted across his face. Regret? Worry?

"It's a dog. It's a circle with a dog inside."

"Oh."

Disappointed she looked down at the carving and traced it again with her fingers. It seemed to make sense and, she thought she could make out the profile of a dog's face inside the circle. She was about to make a smart assed comment about old ladies and their dogs when something seemed to change in the air around her.

Oz was tracing the same lines with his hands and their fingertips touched, sending a jolt of awareness through her. Buffy's hand stilled and Oz's did the same. She stared at their hands, still lightly touching. Her heart rate increased and she took a shaky breath. An incredible surge of desire rushed through her body as she imagined his fingertips lightly touching her body. Her body reacted instantly to the thought; her breasts tingled and her nipples hardened, thrusting against the thin material of her bra.

And Buffy remembered. She was standing next to Oz, who wore nothing but his boxers and she was wearing only her bra and panties. And Buffy _wanted_ …

* * *

 

**Cleveland, December 2005**

Sighing, Buffy accepted that sleep would continue to elude her that night got out of bed and slipped into her housecoat and slippers. She walked through the kitchen and filled the kettle with water before placing it on the stove to boil. She chose a citrus blend for her tea. When it was ready, she picked up her mug and walked to her computer, sipping at her tea until it booted up.

She returned to the Watcher's Library and clicked through a series of icons until she got to Oz's file. Once again she moved the cursor repeatedly over his icon and saw the same fleeting image until something _clicked_ within her.

A circle with the profile of a _wolf_ inside. Not a dog, but a _wolf;_ of this, she was certain. She knew that it was the same image etched into Amelia Alpert's sarcophagus. Questions ran through her mind.

Did Oz know that it was a wolf, not a dog? What did the symbol mean? Why did someone link this symbol to Oz's file? And the final question; Why did the same image appear on Amelia's tomb and Oz's file in the archives?

Though it might be futile, she spent the remainder of the late evening and early morning sifting through the information in the Watcher's archives that she realized that she was going to be late for work. After a quick shower, she dried her hair and dressed. Once ready, she pulled on a pair of winter boots and her thick winter jacket then left her apartment and exited the building, making her way on the concrete walkway towards the academy.

A light wind blew flurries of snow into her face as she quickened her pace. Casting her eyes toward the whitish-grey sky  which promised more snow would soon be on its way and felt a wave of nostalgia for Sunnydale, where a chilly day just meant you put on a thicker sweater underneath a light jacket. Well- that might have been a _slight_ exaggeration - but Buffy still had a slight problem acclimating to an Ohio winter.

She was grateful that walk was a short one as she entered the front doors of the Academy, stomping her feet to loosen the clumps of snow before she walked up the stairs to the level that held the offices. Before she got to the top of the stairs, she could hear Kennedy's voice coming from Andrew's office.

"Absolutely not!" Her voice was loud and firm.

"Kennedy, you are being unreasonable." Willow's voice matched Kennedy's in tone.

"I don't think so, Will. I don't think I am being unreasonable at all."

Buffy entered the office just in time to see Kennedy's stubborn face. Her arms were crossed and she stared at Willow slowly shaking her head.

She looked over at Andrew and mouthed " _What's going on?"_ and inclined her head toward Willow and Kennedy. It was rare for them to argue.

Andrew waved her over. Lowering his voice, he said, "We had a late acceptance for the Annual Watcher's meeting. Unfortunately, all of our empty suites have been filled up and there is no space left since we had way more people accept than anticipated. All units have been booked up and we have no place for this person to stay!" Andrew finished, looking stressed.

Buffy thought for a moment. "What about one of our suites?"

"Xander's suite will be full. He is bringing back some delegates from Africa that will stay with him since he already has a working grasp of the language and we thought they would be more comfortable with him; Dawn will be staying with you; and Faith - well Faith already called ahead to say that Robin is coming and he is going to stay with her." The implication was clear; if Faith had a _male_ guest, then it was best to leave her spare rooms empty. They had learned that embarrassing lesson the _last_ time the residents on the third floor had to billet guests, the building had still been under renovation and they had needed space for guests to stay. To this day, there were certain Watchers who blushed at the _mention_ of Faith's name.

Again she nodded toward Willow and Kennedy, then at Andrew and raised an eyebrow. "Why all the fuss?" she asked.

"Kennedy is refusing to have the guest stay in their place. It seems that the gentleman in question was once an old boyfriend of Willow's. You know, before she was gay."

Oz, she thought. She had no words to describe the mixture of emotions that coiled within her.

Willow and Kennedy continued with their argument.

"No. No. No." Kennedy kept shaking her head.

"Kennedy." Willow was pleading with her girlfriend. "You know that we dated a long time ago. There is nothing-"

Kennedy put her hand out towards Willow in the universal sign for STOP.

"Jessica." Kennedy said the name and put one hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow.

Willow inhaled sharply. "What does _she_ have to do with this?" she asked, but from the tell-tale flush that was spreading up her neck, Buffy had a good indication. Jessica was an international supermodel and was Kennedy's first girlfriend. To say that Willow had felt insecure around the stunning, leggy blonde was an understatement. The fight Willow and Kennedy had when Kennedy's ex-girlfriend had come to visit had been legendary - Kennedy wanted to ask Jessica to stay with them and Willow had refused.

"It's not the same and you know it." Willow said.

Silence followed but, by the play of emotions across both Willow and Kennedy's faces, Buffy knew that the argument had stopped being vocal and was taking place in their minds. Willow had the ability to send and receive thoughts but she didn't do it too often, only when she was afraid her emotions would get the best of her.

Andrew drummed his fingers on his desk. "Hotels are out of the question," he muttered to himself. "Giles had agreed to host that awful Lord Deacon - pompous old bastard. The African delegates - they _have_ to stay with Xander."

He pulled up a complicated looking chart that was color-coded on his computer and began going through the names.

Andrew snapped his fingers. "Dawn!" he announced loudly with a grin.

Willow and Kennedy looked over at Andrew.

"We will move Dawn into your quarters and Mr. Osbourne can stay with Buffy." Andrew smiled and tapped his fingers on his keyboard.

Willow and Kennedy looked relieved.

"That's a great idea!" Willow said, smiling. "It will be nice to have Dawn stay. And I will still get to visit with Oz and catch up some more."

Kennedy scowled but nodded reluctantly.

"Oh! And the Yule Ball. He'll be there too, I imagine." Kennedy's scowl deepened. Noticing, Willow exclaimed "What? No dancing either?"

"One dance." Kennedy allowed as they turn to walk out the door. "But if his hands get anywhere near your ass…"

"Jessica!" Willow reminded Kennedy sharply.

"Willow, her hands were nowhere near my ass!" Kennedy said as they walked down the hall.

"That's because it wasn't your ass she was trying to grab." Willow said dryly before their voices faded away.

That night, Buffy sat lengthwise on her couch, sipping her tea and staring out the window at the moon that glowed like a pearl in the sky. She remembered the book she had once read to Oz, where it described each moon of the year and named it. If she recalled correctly, it was called The Cold Moon, since it appeared in midwinter when nights were at their longest and darkest.

* * *

 

**Alaska**

The Full moon had come and gone. He had survived the three of the longest nights of the year, alternately relieved and miserable. Sarah had been a no-show.

Oz stood on the wooden deck and stared at the sky. Although it was morning, the sky was as dark as evening. In the afternoon, it might lighten for a few hours of twilight/dusk before darkening slowly again. The storm that had hit Alaska shortly after he arrived home had finally passed and the sky was clear. The stars glittered brilliantly and he watched the undulating colors of the Aurora Borealis ripple across the sky.

He recognized the sound of the car that turned into his driveway. Turning, he went back into his house. The last time she had driven down her driveway, he could almost feel her reluctance. This time, her car approached steadily. The car door opened and closed, and her footsteps toward his front door did not falter.

She was not staying - the idling motor from the car was his first clue; the scent of the other person who remained in the car was his second.

Her knock on the door was confident.

He took a steadying breath as he twisted the door knob to let her inside. They stared at each other, one of the few times they made eye contact. Even at their most intimate, eye contact had been fleeting.

Her cheeks were flushed from the cold and her eyes sparkled with a happiness that he envied.

"Oz. I- I" She took a deep breath before continuing. "I wanted to tell you in person."

His eyes glanced behind her to the lone figure that waited in the car. Her head turned as she followed his gaze.

"I had waited so long, I thought I would never -" she said softly. The unspoken word hung in the air.

 _Imprint_.

"I just wanted to come back, one last time to say thank you."

He knew she wouldn't apologize because there was no need. Their relationship (if it could be called that) had only been one of convenience. From the beginning, they had both understood it would last until one of them found someone else.

He stretched his hand out toward her face but stopped when his ears picked up the low growl that came from the car. For a moment, his hand hung in the air before them before he let it drop.

"He is like _us_." Her voice held a small note of relief. Although it was rare for a werewolf to imprint with a human, it was not impossible. They had both heard the stories when it didn't end well. Humans didn't imprint back and sometimes, they didn't love as fiercely or as singularly as an imprinted werewolf. In such occurrences, it was devastating to the werewolf in question if the human broke off the relationship. Plus, humans were fragile and sex always brought the wolf close to the surface, even if the moon wasn't full. He always had to be so careful around Willow, with any human, and keep the wolf firmly in check. _And that one time with…_ he pushed away the memory of the blonde Slayer and focused on the woman in front of him.

The figure in the car shifted restlessly.

"Good bye, Sarah." There was nothing left to say.

"Good bye, Oz."

_Imprint._

The concept of imprinting was most commonly linked with birds, where, shortly after hatching a avian will imprint with their mother and is referred to by scientists as "filial imprinting" . To a werewolf, however, it was the happily-ever-after for each werewolf, the fairy-tale ending and shining beacon that made their violent existence bearable. Whether it was with a human or a werewolf, it was someone to keep you grounded when all thought and reason left during the full moon. He envied Sarah's mate - not because he wanted _her_ , but because he wanted _that._

He hadn't known about imprints until he had left Sunnydale. At first, he thought he had imprinted on Willow. She was his first love and he had been deeply hurt when he discovered that she had cheated on him with Xander. However, he reasoned, if he had imprinted with Willow, he would never have looked twice at anyone female, let alone have erotic dreams about... her best friend.

The first time he had seen Willow after leaving Sunnydale had only cemented his belief that it was for the best. Watching her with her girlfriend, seeing the complete and utter happiness and _contentment_ she experienced with her partner made him realize that they were never meant to be together.

Seeing Buffy again, however, had shaken him more than he wanted to acknowledge.

* * *

 

**April 2004…**

"You can take Oz over to the apartments, can't you?" Willow asked.

Something flickered across Buffy's face then she crossed over to Oz.

"Hi!" she said in a chipper voice. "My name is Buffy and I will be your tour guide for the day. If you would follow me…" she walked backwards out of the office, gesturing for Oz to follow "On your left, you will see the new administrative offices of the Watcher's Council and on your right you will see a blank wall." Oz followed.

In the hallway, she became silent, all tour-guide pretense gone. The hallway was vacant and they ended their walk at a landing - to their left were stairs that lead down and the right was a balcony that wrapped around the area below. Sounds echoed off the high walls as two young girls on the floor fought each other, a large number of onlookers of various ages seated around them.

"Slayers?" he asked quietly.

"Every one of them," Buffy said, her voice pitched low as well.

He looked down at the crowd below, awed by their numbers. "I knew that Willow did a spell to activate the Slayers, but I never realized what it really meant. Is this all of them?"

She shook her head. "No. More arrive every day. Some seek us out, unable to explain why they feel the pull to this place."

"The others?"

"We have our ways of finding them." She glanced back toward the office, where he could still hear Willow talking.

"She can do that?" Once again, he was awed by the power of his former girlfriend.

She furrowed her brow. With worry or concern, he didn't know.

"It's just the beginning of what she can do," she said, her words almost inaudible.

"How many?"

"Here? There dorms have space for a hundred, the other training academy's are about the same. We have locations on almost every continent - with the exception of Antarctica."

He noticed something else at the group below.

"Some are older." he remarked. "When they are done, do they actually-?"

This time, her smile was proud. "It is up to them. Our oldest Slayer is sixty-five and patrols in some of our cemeteries here in Cleveland. If they want to stay active, they can; some choose to become translators and prefer to take a less active Slayer role." She nodded as an older woman wearing a Gi stepped toward the group, speaking instructions first in English, then Japanese and finally in Russian. When she finished, the girls nodded. Simultaneously, they rose into formation and in perfect synchronization they demonstrated the moves she called out in the three languages."We have only just finished completion of the training academy's in Europe and Asia, but some of the girls elected to finish their training with us rather than transfer to their home continent, so having translators around has been a bonus."

Buffy turned toward Oz and continued. "Some of the women choose to accompany some of our younger Slayers into the field and mentor them after they are placed. A few complete their training and then return to their former lives."

"How long do they train?"

"Not long enough." Her eyes looked down over the crowd below, her words inaudible to human ears but he had no problem hearing them.

Abruptly, she turned and walked down the stairs. Oz followed.

At the bottom of the stairs they went right. He glanced to the left and noticed the hallway ended abruptly with a single door. "What's in there?"

Buffy stopped and looked at the door. "That's mine - and Faith's."

He thought she was going to walk away and was surprised when she approached the door and put her hand on the handle.

She went inside and left the door slightly ajar. Once again, Oz followed.

Like the training room, the ceiling was three stories above the floor. There was no upper balcony. The solid walls around the room only went for a third of the height, replaced by two stories of glass, allowing for lots of natural light.

The room was identical to the training room in size and housed a variety of equipment. The wall on the left was decorated with a variety of weapons. He approached the wall and walked beside it as he cataloged each weapon. Daggers, knives, axes and swords of different sizes – the wall was covered with weapons. Each weapon was well used and battle ready he noticed as he rubbed his thumb along the razor-like, double- edged blade of a claymore.

"You use all of these during your training sessions?" he asked, not hiding the envy in his voice.

"You can pick it up if you want." The amusement in her voice made him wonder what his face looked like. "It is a favorite of Faith's, but she won't mind if you hold it."

He grasped the handle but stopped when he spotted another an identical set of Katana blades encased in a sheath further along the wall. Without further thought he abandoned the claymore and approached the samurai swords. He reached up and pulled down the sword. With eerie familiarity he slung the casing and put his arms through the straps until it rested on his back. He drew the sword that had been used for centuries by the samurai warriors, wrapping his fingers around the hilt one finger at a time.

"Have you used a Katana sword before?" she asked.

"Not if you don't count watching VHS tapes of Shogun and dressing like a Samurai one Halloween in high school." Yet, the weight of the sword felt at home in his hands.

"Hallowe'en? In Sunnydale?"

"Mmm-mmm" he hummed in agreement and adjusted his stance until one foot was placed ahead of the other and his knees slightly bent. "Bought it at a shop in Sunnydale for a costumed gig we had a few towns over. It was the strangest night and, for awhile afterward, I became obsessed with Katana's."

Quietly, Buffy pulled down its twin and slid the sheath around her back. Walking toward a cleared area in the middle of the room, she faced him and waved him over, her eyes sparkled mischievously.

He walked toward her. "What are you doing?" he asked, unconsciously adjusting his stance once again and crooking his elbows to hold the sword above his shoulder, keeping the blade parallel to the ground.

"Testing a theory." Swiftly, she pulled the sword from behind her back and attacked.

To his surprise, Oz found that not only did he block her attack but was effortlessly able to switch from defensive moves to the offensive. Time slipped away as steel met steel, the sound of swords clashing echoing around them. He advanced forward and soon had Buffy backing away as she tried to gain the advantage. In a last ditch effort, she used the handle of the sword to bash him in the shoulder. The move failed and he disarmed her.

He didn't know what he expected – a complicated flip that resulted in her getting out his range and other moves that he had seen her perform in the past until she could regain her sword or resorting to hand to hand combat – he thought he was prepared for anything.

They had both been fighting for awhile; both were sweating more than a little, taking in great gulps of air from the exertion. Just before she made her move, he had a moment of perfect awareness. All of his senses were wide open prepared for anything, and his wolfy-side was closer to the surface than he had ever felt it –outside of a full moon that is.

Time slowed.

He saw the rise and fall of her chest, the sheen of perspiration that covered her body. He felt every nerve ending in his body tingle in anticipation of her next move, every muscle tense so he could dodge or deflect. He could taste…and smell… _desire? Her desire?_

She walked forward and he began to back away, afraid of the violence of his _want_ , his _need_. Within, the wolf snarled and snapped in protest, wanting Oz to stand his ground. She reached out her hand he offered no resistance when she pushed his outstretched arm that still held the Katana away.

The sword clattered to the floor, but the sound seemed muffled, overpowered by the sound of their heartbeats and breathing.

He stopped moving and tried to tell her stop, she needed to back off, the wolf was too close and he couldn't keep him leashed much longer.

Instead, he growled, the sound was primal and emanated from deep within him. He expected her to look as horrified as he felt at the sound. He expected her to push him away, repulsed at his lack of control.

He did not expect her to leap toward him, wrapping her legs around his waist, her arms around his neck and press her lips to his with a savage kiss.

He kissed her back, turning them until he had her back to the wall and he growled again, the sound changed to a groan when she tightened her legs around his waist.

"I need…" she sighed.

Shirts came off and her nails dug into his back. Suddenly her hands were all over him, alternating between feather-like touches that left him craving more and scraping nails that further fueled his primal need to stake a claim.

"I _need_ …" she repeated, chanting the words in between her moans when his mouth sought out first one breast and then the other. She leaned forward and nipped him sharply on the shoulder, the sensation causing a chain reaction within him, the wolf telling him now, now NOW, he needed to _dominate_.

But it was her quick and agile fingers that found the zipper to his jeans and slid it down, her fingers that reached down between them, grasping him in the palm of her hand, stroking him and her mouth nibbled on his ear lobe.

Sliding his hands to cup her rear, he maneuvered them toward the floor so he could finally …

"Oz? Buffy? I could have sworn one of the girls said they were in here…" Willow's voice came from the far end of the room. "It is almost time for lunch. Maybe they went over to the apartment building…" Willow's voice faded away and Oz heard the sound of the door closing.

Lunch. Willow. Xander. Academy.

Oz was reminded of where he was and he looked at Buffy, horrified. He had been so close to…

He closed his eyes as disgust with his inability to keep himself under control. When he opened his eyes, he could see the disgust on her face and he pulled back. _What must she think about him?_

He glanced over at her as he reached down to pick up his shirt and almost flinched at the sight of the bruises that he could see forming on her skin. _What did he do to her?_

He saw her shirt on the floor and carried it over to her and offered it to her. She looked at his arm and her eyes widened.

"Did I do that?" her words were low, almost a whisper. Gently, her fingers brushed over the long scratches that went from his shoulder to his forearm. It took everything within him to hold himself back at her touch. He shuddered with the effort, just a hairsbreadth away from pulling her back to him. How could he tell her how much he had liked it? The scratching, the biting, the ferocious intensity that they had shared? She would think he was a monster…

She must have sensed how close to the edge he was, because she snatched her hand back and was looking away as she pulled her shirt over her head.

"I'm sorry." The words were inadequate, but it was all he could say.

"Let me…" she paused and took a deep breath. "Let me show you were you will be staying."

He glanced over at the door.

"There is another exit this way…it is actually closer to the apartment complex if we leave this way." He straightened up and shrugged into his shirt then realized that his jeans were still unzipped. He looked up and saw that Buffy was looking down at the zipper. A look crossed her face and once again, the something primal rose within him and he had to resist the urge to grab her and throw her down on the…

He growled. _Fuck fuck fuck…get a hold of your fucking libido!_

Her eyes widened and she spun away, quickly walking to the door. Oz zipped his jeans and followed. In a last ditch effort to get his libido under control, he reverted to an old tactic. _Okay, in alphabetical order the members of the X-Men are: Archangel Ariel, Armor, Aurora, Beast…_

 

TBC

%MCEPASTEBIN%

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay tuned...


	5. Cold Moon (Part III)

**December 2005**

 

The Boeing 737 circled the Cleveland Airport, banking hard to the left, before beginning its final decent and Oz was supremely grateful. Due to the holiday season, he was unable to get a first class seat and had the misfortune of being seated in coach between two travelers in the throes of airsickness. The constant cacophony of coughing and gagging added to his enhanced sense of smell made him extremely uncomfortable; Oz had a strong stomach but even he was having a difficult time keeping his lunch down.

The plane glided smoothly onto the snow covered runway and the passengers of flight 5440 gave a collective sigh of relief. Oz glanced around and noticed that more than one passenger was looking a little green in the face. He wasn't the only one who could smell the fetid stench in the air.

The plane taxied to the terminal and slowed until it came to a full stop at its gate and the clicking of seat belts being disengaged began before the captain could even turn off the seat belt light. People jumped into the aisle to pull their carry-on luggage from the overhead compartments.

Oz stayed in his seat.

Finally, the flight attendant opened the exit door and people moved single-file out the door and into the terminal. When a break appeared in the line of passengers, he rose, grabbed his carry-on bag and made his way into the terminal.

There was a crowd of people on the other side of the doors and as each of his fellow travelers walked through they were greeted with squeals of delight and hugs by loved ones. Oz saw no familiar faces and told himself that he was not disappointed. He would just take a taxi. Brushing by the crowd of hugging bodies and happy faces, he made his way to baggage claim.

At baggage claim, he waited as merry-go-round of suitcases began and paid little attention to the excited chatter around him. It wasn't easy...

"…so _this_ is little Debra…my how you have grown. Give grandma a hug…"

"…just so glad you are back. How long before you have to head back to Afghanistan? I can't believe your tour got extended..."

"…missed you so much…"

Then, heard familiar voices.

"Damn traffic. I can't believe we missed the arrival of his flight. Will, are you sure this is the right terminal?"

"Yep. Look, the flight number is flashing on the sign at this carousel. Do you see him?"

"Well, maybe if he was taller. He's small enough to fit in my pocket -" the voice was cut off by a duet of chiding voices.

"Xander!"

Oz didn't hold back the smile. He turned and scanned the crowd until he saw them. Xander, Willow and Buffy…for a moment it was high school all over again. Xander saw him and waved him over.

"Dude! We are so sorry! Traffic was murder."

"We wanted to greet you when you got off the plane…" Willow looked at him.

"I didn't expect all of you to show." He shook hands with Xander, who grabbed him and pulled him into a quick hard hug, then slapped him on the back. "Good to see you, Oz."

Willow pulled him into a hug next as she rapidly fired a series of questions at him regarding his health, the flight and the length of time he was staying in Cleveland.

The whole time he felt the weight of the Slayer's steady stare. He scanned the area around him and his gaze touched briefly on her face, trying to decipher the look on her face. She watched him like he was a puzzle that she was trying to figure out.

Discomfited, he forced a smile on his face. He hadn't seen her or spoke to her since his last visit to Cleveland more than a year before.

"Buffy," he nodded.

"Hi Oz."

_Her fingers ran through his hair as he explored her neck with his lips, teeth and tongue. The texture of her smooth skin as he slid his palms up her torso until his fingertips skimmed the underside of her breasts. The low moan ripped from her throat as her nails scraped down his back while her legs tightened around his waist and pressed him intimately into her..._

Mercifully, the sound of luggage sliding down the ramp onto the carousel drew everyone's attention, and Oz shook the memory away. He turned toward the conveyor belts and went to wait for his suitcase. He could still feel her stare and he wondered what she was thinking. Did she think about that night they had spent together as much as he had over the past year? He could still see that look on her face, the next morning when she stood in front of the mirror regarding her naked body covered with scratches and bruises.

The revulsion in her eyes when she saw him had kept him away from Cleveland until now.

It was in the past, he reminded himself, where it would stay. While he was in Cleveland, he was going to stay as far away from Buffy as possible. Of course, the promises he made to himself were always the hardest to keep when it came to the green eyed blonde. Even in high school…

* * *

 

**Senior Year, Sunnydale**

Buffy beckoned him over.

"Look at this. Have you ever seen anything like this before?" Buffy bent her head closer to the stone and peered at the lines etched beneath her fingers.

Oz moved closer. "What is it?"

"I'm not sure. It is a circle etched into the stone and there another drawing etched inside the circle. I can't make it out."

Oz stood beside her and Buffy shifted to her left, so he could get a better look at the etching. She pulled her flashlight back and he peered down at the lines and tried to mask the bitterness that the familiar image invoked.

He understood, all too clearly, the meaning behind the image.

"It's a dog. It's a circle with a dog inside." The lie slipped effortlessly from his tongue. Oz was not surprised; his life for the last few years had been one lie after another. He ran his forefinger over the deep grooves etched into the stone and felt guilty.

His friends didn't deserve lies. Even when he had told them the "truth" about his nature, he had lied.

They had always included him in their lives while he had made every attempt to hide his. He wondered how things might have been different had he told the truth. Would he be different if he weren't tasked with the burden of keeping secrets?

"Oh." The softness of her voice brought him back to the present. The hairs on his arms prickled with awareness and the tips of her fingers touched his, sending a current of desire that raced through his nerves and went straight to his gut.

Instantly, his every sense was tied to the young woman beside him.

His vision, exceptionally good even in the dark, could only focus on the girl beside him, wearing only her underclothing.

Every sound - the rumble of thunder, the rain pounding on the roof, even their breathing- faded until he only heard their hearts beating in perfect synchronization.

He could not feel the chill in the damp air or the wetness of his boxers against his skin- only the tantalizing tingle that radiated from where her fingertips brushed his skin.

Her musky scent filled the air, masking the mold and mildew and overpowering the earthy scent that came with rain.

He was overwhelmed with a burning desire for…well the Sister's of Mercy sang it best with " _I Want More."_

His hands itched to pull her roughly against him, his ears wanted to catalog every sound she made as she cried — no, _screamed._ Oh dear God, he wanted to hear her scream— with pleasure as he explored every inch of her body.

Like a memory of some forgotten dream, her could picture her face flushed with desire, eyes dilated with need, he wanted to nibble, lick and taste every inch of her body writhing as she _screamed_ with –

The violence of his impulses terrified him. _Calm. Controlled. Stoic._ The words were his mantra, drilled into his head as far back into his childhood that he could remember.

Oz stepped back, drew a shaky breath and prayed his mask of calm disinterest was still in place. He had years to practice hiding his feelings from outsiders – he often wondered if he remembered who Daniel Alp- _Osbourne_ really was.

He trained his flashlight on the wall and walked back to where he had been standing before in a determined attempt to gain some space from Buffy. Slowly, his senses began to work again and he tried to push away the haze of lust that engulfed him.

"Archangel, Ariel, Armor, Aurora, Beast..," he muttered, as he had done a few minutes ago before she had called him over to the sarcophagus. However, what had always worked when he was with Willow didn't seem to work with Buffy. He just ended picturing her wearing the skin-tight jumpsuit the female X-Men wore, which had no effect on extinguishing the burn she sparked inside of him.

_Ignore. Ignore. Ignore._

He needed some type of distraction before he was striding toward her and pulling her-

What the hell was that?

A faint crack ran up the wall in front of him. Tracing the line with his light, he noticed it ran vertically for approximately six feet from the floor, horizontally for four feet and then back to the floor again.

He stretched out his fingers and touched the crack, dislodging the dirt and dust that collected.

_This was it._

"Buffy? Can I borrow a knife?"

"Sure." She padded barefoot toward her weapons bag and he heard that clink of metal against metal. "What kind? I have a dirk, dagger, stiletto, double-edged, dual bladed…"

He grinned at her words. Something about the way she rummaged through her weapons bag reminded him of the way his Grandmother would search through her purse looking for gum. Unbidden, a memory of his Grandmother looked came to mind. " _Promise me, Daniel. Promise me you will run far and fast…"_ His smile faded and he smothered a curse.

"Any one will do fine." He said, pushing the memory away.

In a moment she was beside him, her small hand wrapped around the blade and presenting the handle of a dagger toward him.

He took the dagger, passed her his flashlight and pressed the tip into the crack on the wall. The knife slid as easily as if it was cutting butter. More of the caked dirt and dust fell to the floor as he followed the crack up the wall, across and down again.

He stood back. They weren't cracks at all.

They were gaps.

"It looks like…" Buffy started.

"…a door." He finished.

When she stepped forward, he knew the moment  her Slayer abilities kicked in. He knew it the same way he knew when she opened her senses and the Slayer inside her went into high alert. He knew it the same way he knew the exact moment the full moon appeared over the horizon – some primal part of him reacted.

It was why he took such care to stay in the background when he and Willow accompanied her on patrol.

She walked forward and pushed on the door. There were no sounds of grunting with exertion as she shoved against the wall, but he knew she was calling on her Slayer strength all the same.

Nothing happened.

Oz held himself back from joining her, curling his fingers into a fist so he wouldn't give into temptation and – _fuck! Get a grip!_

She shrugged. "Not going to budge." She commented and he believed her. If Buffy, with all of her Slayer strength, couldn't move the door, then he knew even full moon Wolf Oz couldn't budge it.

She walked away (thankfully) and went to the small individual vaults imbedded in the wall for other Alpert family members and regarded the names on the marker on each vault as if they contained secrets to life, the universe and everything ( _42…_ he smirked). He continued to look at the outline of the door and tried once again to distract himself. He wondered what was on the other side.

If brute strength wasn't needed to open the door then he reasoned that there must be another method available. He found no holes, so he ruled out the need for a key. Faint recollections of the Hardy Boys books that he had read one summer evoked images of secret passageways that were always triggered by a well-placed book on a bookshelf or set of fireplace pokers. The mausoleum had no such items, but he noticed sconces placed along the walls. Feeling just a little juvenile, he walked over to the closest sconce and gave an experimental tug.

Nothing.

No handles, locks or levers needed to open this door. It was almost as if…

Could it really be that simple?

He returned to the door and rested his palms on the wall, feeling the coolness of the concrete under his hand. Then he walked beside the wall maintaining contact with the smooth surface.

It took him two minutes to find it. It was located on the right side of the wall, approximately four feet from the floor and four feet from the door. Close enough to be useful, far enough to escape notice. _I shouldn't tell Buffy about this, I should come back later._ He knew that would be the smartest thing to do. This was the reason he had come to this cemetery after all. If the vamps hadn't attacked him, he would have been inside the tomb when Buffy arrived and she would have never had met up with him.

Was it wrong that he was glad she was here?

He had been watching her for over a year and he knew he could trust her. She had always treated him fairly – even when she had thought he had killed those people. He couldn't blame her, _he_ had thought he killed them too. No one was more relieved than he when they discovered the real killer. _She was so different from what he had expected. They had been wrong about her._

"Check this out." He said impulsively over his shoulder. Buffy walked back to him and he trained his flashlight on the disc imbedded in the wall. She extended one finger and lightly touched it then she smiled.

"Clever." Her lips curved as he inclined his head toward her in an invitation.

Buffy pressed on the disc and the wall began to slide.

* * *

 

**Cleveland, Dec 2005**

She couldn't take her eyes from him. She knew that she had been staring past the point of rudeness, yet she couldn't look away. She remembered back in high school when he and Willow had first begun dating. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, it had been hard to believe that they had shared the same school for more than a year and had never crossed paths. Yet, once he met Willow, he was _everywhere._ As soon as he had come into the circle of friends, she would catch glimpses of him every day.

She had never questioned it before. She, and everyone around her, had accepted the enigma that was Oz. _What did she know about him?_ She flipped through her mental Rolodex of Oz-related details and was dismayed by her conclusion.

Very little.

He was Oz, the one kid in high school who seemed to be the very definition of cool. He played the bass. He used to drive an old beat up van. He had to repeat the 12th grade, but he was incredibly smart – so smart that some Government suits had tried to recruit him back in high school.

He was also extremely reticent.

In high school, she couldn't remember him saying anything about his parents. _All_ teens complained about their parents – Xander complained about his, who loved to drink and argue; Willow grumbled when hers were too overprotective, or absent because they were off lecturing; Buffy had even griped about her Mom "not understanding" her. It was every teen's inherent right to complain long and loud about their parents.

Not Oz.

He had never mentioned his home life, the only reference to his family had been to comment on his cousin Jordie who had bitten him while teething and started Oz on his road toward wolf-y-ness. She realized that she had never known where he lived.

Willow had never commented on Oz's home life either.

Buffy narrowed her eyes as she watched her best friend walk over to the luggage carousel and lift one of Oz's suitcases, brushing away his protest at her help. Did Willow know something about Oz and had kept it a secret all of these years? Or was Buffy just being paranoid?

She remembered last year, when Oz had arrived out of the blue and she had shown him the training room she and Faith used (she purposefully did _not_ think about the other things she had shown him while in the room.)

Crap…that was a lie.

Ever since Andrew told her Oz was going to be staying in her apartment, she had thought of nothing else…

* * *

 

**Cleveland, April 2004**

_What was wrong with her?_ She was mortified and couldn't believe that she had jumped on him like…like… _a sex crazed whore?_

" _Way to go Buffy…way to let your freak flag fly"_ she congratulated herself _._ Mortified, she resisted the urge to look back at Oz. She could hear him following her as he straightened his clothing. She wished …uh _no wishing, wishing bad!_ She'd reminded herself. She wondered what the etiquette was after sexually assaulting a former high school classmate.

Oz, ever the gentleman and quick to avoid hurting feelings, had apologized without any reason. _She_ had been the one to launch herself on him like…like…(oh God) a sex-crazed whore. Whores didn't get much more sex-crazed than one Buffy Summers, what with the groping, biting and –she had to hold back a groan at the thought –scratching. Oz had looked like he had barely survived a wild animal attack. Luckily, when he had put on his long-sleeved shirt the long red lines made by her nails were hidden.

She was disgusted with her behavior. Back in Sunnydale, she had taken the coward's way out and had blamed her favorite scapegoat. "Spike was at fault" had been her mantra for over a year and she had done her best to pretend she didn't know the truth about herself.

She got off on it.

She always had, and now she was afraid she always would.

It was mortifying and embarrassing, but even worse – she still wanted him. She heard him walking behind her, his steps crunching softly on the snow and she wanted to reach behind her, thrown him into the snow and continue what she had started a few minutes ago.

Like she was in some kind of speed walking competition, Buffy quickened her pace and led Oz to the apartment complex.

"The keys to your unit are inside the apartment. I have a master key, so I can let you inside and give you a quick tour before you meet Willow and Xander for lunch." She was surprised at the evenness of her voice as she reached the outer door to the building.

With a burst of speed, Oz reached the door before her and pulled the door open, motioning her to walk through first. _See…gentleman. He didn't deserve the attack of the Sex-Starved Slayer._

"You aren't coming with us?" he asked as she walked by.

"Um…I forgot, I…"she stopped when his hand gently grasped her wrist. She had to hold back a groan at light touch. She looked down at his hands and was immediately caught up in the sensation. Her mouth went dry.

"Please reconsider…I don't want you to feel uncomfortable. I promise that…what happened earlier…it won't happen again." His words were soft, spoken in a tone usually reserved for traumatized people or injured animals.

"You're right, it won't." Buffy promised. She would do everything in her power to ensure that Oz's visit was free from the adventures of Slutty-Buffy and her overactive sex drive.

"I really would like it if you joined us." The pad of his thumb brushed over the sensitive skin at her wrist and she suppressed a shiver.

Buffy was no blushing heroine from some cheap pulp-fiction romance novel. She didn't "tremble with desire," "flinch with skittish apprehension" or "gasped with" —what the hell did those damn twits gasp with anyway? — No, Buffy did none of those things.

Instead, she stared dumbly at his thumb as it swept back and forth over her pulse in a hypnotic rhythm that only Oz could hear. Her memory kicked in and suddenly she couldn't just feel his thumb brushing maddeningly across her pulse, but she _remembered_ how his hands had stroked and slid around on other non – handsy parts of her body.

They had felt incredible.

It took all of her self-control to look away from his thumb and step past him into the foyer. His hand fell away but the sensation remained, as if he still touched her.

She talked as she walked toward the staircase but would not have been able to recall a single word she uttered as they climbed the steps and walked the hallway to the apartment door.

She pulled out her master key and unlocked the door.

"It's not much, but it is furnished." Oz followed behind her as she walked through the rooms and gave him a quick tour. "Kitchen is through there, I don't know if you like to cook or anything, but oven and stove are hooked up and ready to use. Kitchen has a small eating area too, but there isn't a dining room, sorry." He waved off her apologetic face and she gave him a small smile.

"Ummm…you have a balcony there," she pointed to the sliding door on the far side of the living room and then turned the corner into a hallway, "there is a small, half bathroom in here and the bedroom is…" she hoped she could get away with just pointing to the door, but then she remembered that she needed to make sure he had linens. Pretending she didn't know that her cheeks were heating up, she reached out and twisted the knob on the closed door.

"Just need to make sure you have some…" she began awkwardly. She let the sentence hang in the air as she stepped into the room. As soon as she saw that the bed had linens and a comforter, she took a hasty step backward… right on to Oz's foot. His hands shot forward and rested on her hips as he steadied her.

Buffy felt a rush of heat that swept over the surface of her skin and her gut clenched with desire. The Sex-Starved-Slayer was back.

"Hello? Oz? Buff?" Xander's voice called into the apartment. For a moment, Buffy felt frozen and unable to move. The light pressure of Oz's hands on her hips felt so good. Almost imperceptibly, she leaned backwards and he took a small step forward and their bodies touched; back-to-front. He leaned his head forward and she felt the briefest of touches when his lips met the side of her neck.

"The door was unlocked, you guys have to be here somewhere…"

Xander's voice seemed closer and Buffy and Oz stepped apart.

"We're here." Buffy widened her eyes at the huskiness of her voice and cleared her throat.

"Here Xan." She said again. Reluctantly, she stepped away from Oz and tried to calm her racing pulse.

Xander grabbed the apartment keys and tossed them to Oz as they walked out. They walked out of the building toward the parking lot and Oz admired the Dukati that was parked near his car.

"Whose is that?" he asked.

Xander laughed and Willow smiled. "Not mine. Dude…it's a _Dukati_. Only one person _I_ know who could afford a beauty like that."

"It's Kennedy's." Willow said when Oz looked confused.

Xander nodded. "Yep. Willow's girlfriend is loaded." Willow punched him on the shoulder and Xander scowled. "'s truth," he said, aggrieved.

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you have to be so crass about it."

Buffy had ended up joining them for lunch after all, but had second thoughts when they got to the diner. The restaurant was packed and the only table available was a small booth; Xander and Willow took one side, which left her sitting beside Oz. She scooted over as close to the wall as possible, but she still ended up with his leg and hip touching hers.

Every time he moved, she felt him. Focusing on conversation had never been so difficult.

Surprisingly, there had been no awkward moments-save one. she had let it slip that she had shown Oz her training room and they had sparred. Of course, she had left out the part where she had _attacked_ Oz with her mouth as well as her hands. Xander had seem impressed with Oz surviving their battle with few visible bruises. Willow had asked if Oz used any added padding.

"Even Giles knows to wear protection when being attacked by Buffy." Xander commented when Oz had shaken his head.

_Protection!_ The reminder was like a bucket of cold water on her face. A quick glance at Oz told her the same thing…he hadn't thought of it either. Despite her earlier annoyance and frustration by being interrupted by Willow and Xander when they had been in the training room, Buffy was now grateful. She knew she had been too far gone to even think about condoms - even if they had been interrupted before things had proceeded _that_ far.

* * *

 

**Cleveland, Dec 2005**

The first day of the annual meeting went smoothly. Andrew passed out the updated agenda then seated himself in the corner of the room at a desk that held three monitors. As Giles began to speak, Andrew began to type, fingers flying skillfully over the keyboard, eyes ahead as he manipulated the graphics on the screen behind Giles and took notes.

Giles welcomed everyone and gave an overview of the mission of the Watcher's Council and the purpose of the annual meeting. He encouraged everyone to speak freely but reminded him that it was his job as facilitator to keep everyone on point. Any new issues brought up would be added to the following day's agenda.

The first few hours were spent on introductions as each person gave an overview of their experience and expectations. Since the Watcher assassinations that had occurred in 2003, this new council was mostly made of inexperienced Watchers that lacked field experience. While some went into great detail about their position with the council, others simply stood, offered a brief statement and sat again.

Others, consultants like Oz were absent from the morning session.

Lunch was provided in the cafeteria, where more than one attendee was surprised to note the excellent quality of the food. One of their younger Slayers had a mother who had been an executive chef at a five Star restaurant in New York and insisted on working close by while her daughter trained at the academy. When the mother had first arrived, she had offered her services in the cafeteria. Her suggestions had prompted Giles to offer her the (instantly created) position of "Executive Chef" in their cafeteria. Eager to be useful, but close to her daughter at the same time, the mother accepted. As a result, the quality of the food in the cafeteria rose considerably and the girls were provided with healthy and delicious meals worthy of the finest dining around the world.

After lunch, the participants returned to the conference room. The room had been arranged differently, rows of chairs faced the front where a long table with three chairs had been arranged. Everyone sat down, facing the empty panel. Buffy and Faith, each aware of what was about to happen, stood facing each other against opposite walls.

Buffy felt Faith's eyes watching her and she shifted uneasily, remembering their conversation earlier.

Giles had pulled them aside and explained that he wanted them to be extra alert when the petitioners were presented. Seeing the expression on the Slayers' faces, he hastily assured them that he didn't expect trouble, but wanted to take every precaution in case tempers got heated and things got out of hand. _Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst,_ he had said _._ The worried tone of his voice, however, had only increased Buffy's uneasiness.

Faith had pulled Buffy aside after Giles had left them.

"Is it just me, B, or does Giles seem a little extra twitchy? For someone who said he is not worried, he seems to be taking a lot of extra precautions."

"Giles' middle name is cautious, Faith. I mean, the man sees a green light change to yellow and he stops."

Doubt colored her friend's voice as she shrugged. "You know him best, B. I just wonder if he had thought this through. This is pretty heavy stuff to throw at the Watchers, without any warning. That's just my opinion though."

Buffy's voice was quiet. "Trust him, Faith. He knows what he is doing"

Faith raised an eyebrow at Buffy. "I do trust _him_ …it's the others I am worried about." Faith lowered her voice and looked away, her posture tense. "You didn't spend over a year in a Watcher guarded prison like I did. Trust _me_ when I tell you that they made our Giles look impetuous and hotheaded. Don't get me wrong, B – I think Giles' has the right idea, but you can't force this kind of drastic way of thinking. Change like this doesn't happen overnight."

Giles stood, gave a meaningful nod to Andrew (who quickly exited the room) and gave a short speech about the vision of the Watcher's Council. Buffy narrowed her eyes at Giles. Outwardly, he looked calm and in control, but she detected the slight tremor in his voice. His eyes seemed to dart around the room and she straightened in alarm. _He's apprehensive._ She thought.

"We are aware, that the increase in Slayer activity has caused some degree of alarm within the demon community." Andrew returned, nodded at Giles and stood near the doors.

Giles continued. "If you look at your agenda, you will see the next item is simply titled 'Petitions.' We have been approached by some of the concerned citizens of the demon community who wanted to have an opportunity to speak to us about their misgivings. A few of their representatives have come before the council to petition on behalf of the cultures they represent."

Buffy frowned and glanced at Faith, whose expression mirrored Buffy's. _That wasn't right,_ she thought. She thought that Clem and Oz had been approached by the Council. They were being paid and had been listed as consultants.

Andrew opened the doors and an small assorted group of individuals – two human and one obviously _not_ – walked through the door. The first individual was undeniably human and caused a stir amongst the most seasoned of the Watchers. A few of the older watchers, survivors of the Council assassinations, shifted in agitation and began to mutter to some of their counterparts.

Those who were new to the Watcher's council had confused expressions, unable to discern why the man caused such turmoil by his presence. He carried a briefcase and wore an expensive suit, his dark hair slicked back from his expressionless face. As he walked past, Buffy noticed tightness in his jaw and realized that Faith wasn't the only one who had doubts.

Next in the small parade was a tall Luu'sken demon, who smiled and waved when he saw Buffy and she nodded at him in return, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Clem was always so cheerful and friendly, it was hard not to respond it. He waved at Faith and Buffy saw the unwilling smile flit across her friend's face as well.

Oz was at the end of the small entourage. By some unspoken agreement, they did not make eye-contact as he walked by.

Quietly, they sat at the front of the room, facing the group.

The first gentleman stood and moved to the podium.

"Good afternoon. I am Wesley Wyndham-Price and I represent Wolfram and Hart. Due to the increase of Slayers around the world, a few of our…more sociable…clients have approached us and want us to relay their fears to the Council. In years past, if a demon wanted to quietly live their lives with as little strife as possible, they simply stayed away from areas where Slayer patrolled. There are a variety of demons that have no desire to prey on humans but carry on a simple existence. They fear with the increase of Slayers around the world and the Council's past attitude of 'Slay-first-then-ask-questions', their way of life is threatened. We at Wolfram and Hart, would like to act as liaison between these communities and the council."

The demon stood next.

"My name is Clemmet – Clem for short. I am here to represent the Luu'sken clans. We consider ourselves a peaceful race, but have suffered a tremendous and heartbreaking loss throughout our history. Since our younglings reach a mature height and appearance within the first five years and maintain a sheltered existence, they are easily intimidated. Like some of your animal species, our race has an ability to alter our appearance to appear menacing when threatened. As such, we have often been mistaken as a hostile demon. I am here at the behest of the leaders of our race. With the increase in Slayers, we would like to avoid any misunderstandings that would lead to further loss of our younglings."

Clem sat down and cast a surreptitious glance toward Buffy. Keeping her arms crossed, she gave him a thumb up and he gave a small, relieved nod in return.

Buffy relaxed slightly and noticed that Faith did the same. _Giles was just being overly cautious,_ she thought to herself. Everything was going smoothly.

Oz was next.

Since he had walked into the room, she had only given him quick glances and had avoided anything akin to eye contact. They had picked him up at the airport the evening before and Buffy had watched him carefully and tried to keep her thoughts on mundane matters – reviewing the information that she was going to give to the Slayers that morning, reminding herself to pick up the dry-cleaning. Still her curiosity about Oz's past only post more questions and she was determined to get Willow aside and pump her for more information about Oz.

She _did not_ think about the one night they had spent together when he visited the year before. She _did not_ think about the way his hands had felt as they roamed over her skin, the way his mouth felt when licked and sucked on the most sensitive parts of her body. And she most definitely _did not_ think about how his skin had felt and tasted as she licked, nibbled and touched every inch of it. She did not think about -

Crap. She _needed_ to stop not -thinking.

Oz had moved to the podium and drew her attention back to the present. He took a moment to look over the faces of everyone present, but seemed to follow some unspoken rule between them and did not make eye contact with her.

Oz took a moment and rested his hands on the podium as he looked out over the faces of the Watcher's before him. He knew that he was going against everything he had been had been taught since he was a whelp. The elders had warned him that his work with the council would only lead to pain and suffering. Oz had admonished the elders for being unrelenting and set in their ways.

_The only thing worse than a Watcher is a Slayer._ They had cautioned him.

He had scoffed at them for being set in their ways.

_It's a new world and the new council will be different. Why can't you see that?_

They had shaken their heads at his declarations and muttered about the impetuousness of youth.

Against their advice, Oz told them he was going to petition the council – with or without their backing.

After learning his petition would be joined by Wolfram and Hart, as well as the Luu'sken clans, Oz was reassured that he was doing the right thing. This morning, while waiting for them to be called into the meeting the three of them had been encouraged by Clem's optimism and mystified by Wesley's pessimism.

* * *

 

_**Earlier that morning…** _

"…just don't think it is all going to be sunshine and roses. We are talking about _centuries_ of bias and "justified slayings". The council _will not_ change their ways overnight and I think we are fools for even thinking they will." Wesley was saying.

"Surely, you can't really think that, can you? I mean, you _are_ here, so you must believe that there is some hope." Clem countered with a frown.

"It doesn't matter what I think, does it? I am here to represent the interests of Wolfram and Hart's clients regardless of my beliefs." The ex-Watcher eyed Oz. "You remember what I was like when I first came to Sunnydale? Inflexible and righteous in my beliefs? I was a product of generations of council-bred Watchers."

Clem looked at Oz and Oz gave a slight nod as he remembered how the young Watcher had butted heads with Buffy and her friends.

Wesley looked at Clem as the demon struggled to hang on to his optimism that the new council would be different.

Wesley's gaze softened. "Giles has always been a bit of a maverick. Perhaps I am being too skeptical. It's just – it took a lot of adversity before I changed my attitude."

"And you don't think that the losing the majority of the Watcher's council is enough reason for a shift in attitude?"

Wesley sadly shook his head. "The newer ones – perhaps, but I fear the opposite is true for the older Watchers. I think the attack by the First, the Slayer's decision to call forth the power for all of the potentials….I think it will only strengthen their belief that they now have the strength to obliterate all demons – even if they pose no harm to humans."

Clem lowered his eyes and slumped his shoulders-the very picture of dejection.

Oz liked the Luu'sken demon. He had seen Buffy talking with him the night before and she seemed truly happy to see the demon, giving him a quick hard hug, her face lighting up with delight when she recognized him. She had been completely relaxed in the demon's presence.

He trusted her instincts.

For the first time he spoke. He had been quiet so long while Wesley and Clem had carried on their debate that they looked surprised to hear his voice.

"We have to try."

The others agreed.

* * *

 

Oz inhaled deeply through his nose and started to speak. He introduced himself and basically reiterated the same purpose for petitioning the council as his two predecessors. He heard the slight muttering that started when he spoke the word "werewolf" and _felt_ the Slayer instinct kick in for Buffy. For all that he had avoided looking at the Slayer; he was completely cognizant of her presence. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her stiffen and slowly turn her head towards the crowd of watcher's.

The mutterings continued and increased in volume.

_He dares to come before us…_

_No better than a vampire…_

_Mindless killers they are…_

He heard his grandmother's voice as she had looked at him nearly a decade before as she struggled to draw breath.

" _You listen to me Daniel…you ever hear the word Watcher, I want you to promise me that you will run far and fast. Promise me Daniel. You will not go to Sunnydale. You will not seek revenge. Far and fast, Daniel."_

She had died before he could promise.

He felt the Slayer move and heard her cry of alarm. Forgetting everything he had ever been taught, he stopped speaking at looked toward her. Her eyes were wide and panicked. The hairs on his arm stood up and he sensed the danger. Mistakenly, he searched around the Slayer, thinking the danger was to her and he wondered why she was rushing toward him.

He heard the surprised alarm in the voices of the crowd before him and Giles' shout of "No!"

One cold voice bellowed from the crowd. "This _abomination_ cannot be allowed!"

Buffy was still rushing toward him and throwing herself at him when Oz heard the shot. He felt the impact of her body against his as he flew backwards a good six feet. Her hands clutched his shoulders and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her and braced himself as they fell toward the floor.

_He smelled blood._

As soon as the hit the floor Oz rolled over, pinning her body to the ground and protectively covering it with his own. Something inside him clawed and scraped at his insides desperate to be released. He felt a wetness on his shirt before he felt the _burning coldness_ in his chest.

He looked down at Buffy, confused by the paleness of her faced and the sluggish feeling that overcame him. He was having trouble stringing his thoughts together.

_Something...something..._ he couldn't seem to focus his thoughts.

He felt an incredible wetness between them and pulled back. Dumbly, he stared down at her body, alarmed by the rapidly spreading red and sticky substance on her shirt.

A strange buzzing sounded in his ears and he struggled to focus. He felt hands trying to pull him from Buffy and he heard a ferocious snarling growl sound. Her eyes were alternately rolling back and then focusing on him. She raised a hand and touched his shoulder. At her touched, he realized his shoulder was on fire and he relished the coolness of her fingers on him.

Her mouth opened and closed. "You're ….you…" she tried to say. Her voice sounded weak and far away. "bleeding." She whispered. "I tried…tried to stop… it." Then her head fell back and her eyes closed.

Voices washed over him.

"… _shot him."_

"… _somebody check that gun.."_

"… _bullet went right through her…"_

"… _can't get him away from her. We need to see…"_

"… _oh my god…Giles…they were silver...silver bullets..."_

Then Oz's world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clem's demonology was never classified, so I took liberties. **begin shameless plug**Also used same classification in my Spuffy fic Out of Time (check it out! http://archiveofourown.org/works/1037585/chapters/2069603). Also, if you like some of the more lesser-written pairings, I have an SPN/BtVS x-over fic posted called Postcards from Sunnydale http://archiveofourown.org/works/1103960/chapters/2220863 **end shameless plug**  
> Stay tuned...


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